


Two Scoops Each

by drowsyfantasy



Series: Ice Cream [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Disabled Character, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-10-20 22:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20683271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowsyfantasy/pseuds/drowsyfantasy
Summary: Illidan returns instead of staying to be locked in eternal combat with Sargeras. But the ice cream will have to wait, because a battle for Azeroth is about to begin...More characters and tags will be added when chapters are updated. Warnings may change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rivkael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkael/gifts).

Illidan wasn’t supposed to come back. 

In fact, he was even angry about it at first. Sargeras finally captured and trapped, and he ranted and foamed at Velen, who had ultimately refused to leave the elf there to his fate. The way home on the Vindicaar had been a ferocious battle of tempers, it was rumoured, though the leader of the Illidari had calmed somewhat by the time they reached Azeroth once more, especially with the sobering sight of the massive blade cutting into the heart of their world. 

And so it was with great surprise but no ultimate shock when a guard knocked on the door to his study and announced that Illidan Stormrage had arrived at the Keep. 

The young king put his pen down from where he had been writing by candlelight, slipped from his stool, and followed the guard down the hallway towards the main gates. “Did he say anything?” Anduin inquired lightly. 

“He claimed you had promised him amnesty,” the guard replied, her voice dryly amused. “From what, I’m not certain. He saved my sister on the Broken Shore. In my books, that makes him a decent hero.” 

“The Night Elves might have other opinions.” They had emerged into the Grand Hall, lined with the customary guard. There were a few other people milling about, talking to each other, discussing clean-up strategies and ideas about the enormous sword in the side of their planet. “Still, I’m glad he lived.” 

The guard bowed and left him, and he and Illidan Stormrage stood face-to-face once more. Well, face-to-chest, considering the elf on his hooves was head and shoulders taller than Anduin, and the young king had to tilt his head back to meet his gaze. 

Illidan looked worse for wear. It had been less than three days since their return to Azeroth. “High King Anduin Wrynn.” 

“Illidan Stormrage.” 

“I come seeking...amnesty.” He spoke formally, yet the words seemed to pain him. “I believe Stormwind may offer a more neutral place for me to stay.” 

“Granted,” Anduin responded without hesitation. “Also, we may yet be able to use your knowledge and skills surrounding this new problem in Silithus.” 

“Your optimism is duly noted,” Illidan deadpanned, “but I fear my experience lies in demon-slaying, not planet-level surgery. Isn’t healing _ your _field of speciality, High King?” 

Anduin was surprised to feel his cheeks heat up a little, pinkening at the tone and impudence. Shaw teased him, and Genn would prod him, but no one else talked to him like this, not really. “I’m afraid it may be beyond even my abilities,” Anduin found himself softly admitting, then glancing around quickly. “But we shouldn’t talk about that out here. Come, come inside, I’ll have my attendants prepare a chamber for you. Supper will be served soon, I’m sure you must be hungry. When was the last time you ate?” 

“If you’re wondering about that last meal, I never got it.” Illidan shrugged one shoulder, and Anduin choked ever so slightly. For the past few minutes there had been an odd smell about the place, which he’d attributed to the recent rains. However, when the elf moved, it was clear that the odor was emanating from him. “I’ve been walking for a while now.” 

“Oh dear. Well, I think a hot bath first will do you good.” Anduin backed up a step, beckoning him, then began walking up another corridor. With a swishing noise, Illidan followed, and the king could hear hoof-clips on the flagstone floor behind his padded boots. In the Keep, he didn’t wear his plate-armour or his ceremonial items; instead, he usually wore more comfortable linen or leathers, depending on the temperature. It allowed him to move around with more discretion. “Ah, here we are.” 

He opened the door to the indoor baths. The Keep had a variety of resources to them, including hot and cold running water, which wasn’t available in every house in Stormwind. There were some homes that had it, but for most citizens, public baths were the norm. His own facilities were precious to him, allowing him time to meditate and to pray in silence and in peace. 

As he made his way to the shallow dips to see which pool would work best for the enormous demon hunter, he heard Illidan stop in the doorway. 

“Is this really necessary?” the enormous elf groused. “If I truly smell so terrible, can I not merely put on some new clothes?” 

“Do you even have any?” Anduin shot him a sideways look as he began fiddling with the knobs on some of the pipes, hearing them rattle as they began to draw water and heat it in the gnomish boiler. “Have your bath. _ Enjoy _ your bath. I’ll have someone fetch you some clean clothes.”

“Have the old ones burned, then.” Illidan retorted, laying his glaives to the side of the pool on a rack meant for towels, and began removing what little clothing he wore. In truth he mostly shredded his pants, and Anduin quickly looked away, awkward but fascinated, trying to hide his curiosity. Were Illidan’s legs like a Satyr’s, all furred and bent? _ It was none of his business _, he told himself. 

“Whatever’s left of them,” Anduin teased as he moved away from the taps, now gushing hot water into the pool, and looking at the sorry little heap of rags Illidan had left on the ground. He nudged them with the toe of his boot and pulled a face, then held out his hands. With a murmur of a spell, they were engulfed in holy fire and vanished into ashes. 

For a moment there was silence, followed by a surprisingly meek “I...I didn’t actually expect you to set them ablaze” from Illidan, and a horrified, sinking feeling in Anduin’s stomach. He quickly began babbling apologies, but Illidan merely held a hand up, palm out, shaking his head. “No matter. They’re gone now, and you did promise me new ones. They wouldn’t have covered much anymore, considering the state they were in.” 

“True.” Anduin nodded, walking to the taps and turning them off as Illidan slipped deeper into the pool. It came up to just below where his neck met his shoulders, and the ends of his hair floated like a siren’s. “Oh! Soap and towels! Stay there, I’ll be right back.” 

“So much for attendants,” he heard Illidan chuckle, as Anduin scrounged in a cupboard for the needed supplies. He came back with arms loaded down, settling the little bottles next to the bath-lip, and towels on the rack next to his warglaives. They glowed and flickered with an internal fire when he looked at them, and without thinking, reached out to touch…

“That’s not a good idea, Holy Priest.” Illidan’s voice was stern, commanding, and Anduin jerked his hand back. “Fel and the Light don’t exactly get along, and I don’t want you breaking them by accident.” 

“I wasn’t going to try to purge them...or...or whatever you were thinking,” Anduin replied, but he obediently withdrew, settling instead near to where Illidan was beginning to scrub himself under the water, which was rapidly becoming a more murky colour. 

“Undoubtedly.” Illidan deadpanned. He often did that, Anduin observed. “Come here. I need to finish this bath quickly before this water turns to mud.” 

“Oh? Do you need it drained and refreshed?” Anduin asked, as he settled closer to the demon hunter’s head and shoulders. 

“No. While I’m scrubbing below the water, wash above it.” Illidan gestured at the little line of bottles. “I don’t know which one is supposed to go in my hair, but I’m sure _ you _do.” 

“Very well, would you like it put in curlers for the morning?” Anduin bit off, but he reached for the shampoo, then paused and removed his shirt first, getting on his knees in order to have a better balance. He began by pouring it onto his hands and Illidan’s head, wincing a little as he dragged his fingers through the greasy, matted mess. Illidan hissed and tilted his head back, and as they worked together, it became easier and easier, with the hair coming loose and free in the water as he went. 

“Oddly enough, you are not the first person to offer to make my hair more...detailed.” Illidan remarked, glancing up at him, and it was only at that point that Anduin realized that of course, he’d removed his blindfold. Staring into the brutally-burning embers that sat in the elf’s dead, burnt-out eye sockets was both mesmerizing and terrifying, and he found himself hypnotized, frozen. “Asha was fond of offering to braid the Illidari’s hair, and once offered that service to me. Once.” 

“Oh.” Was all Anduin could say, hands trailing in the rapidly-cooling water. Frowning, Illidan turned, vanishing under the water for a moment, then coming up, sweeping his hair back and out of his face, eyes closed to stop them from getting full of bath waste, and Anduin’s breath caught in his throat at the sight, lips parting in silence. 

“Hmmf. Drain the bath and let me rinse off,” Illidan ordered, and the moment was broken as Anduin scrambled back to his feet, stumbling over himself as he pulled the chain to drain the pool, turning on the taps again. He kept his back turned, face on fire as he listened to Illidan showering in the fresh water, until the last of it bubbled down into the drain-pipes. There was some wet shuffling, clicking on the stone, and a soft rattle as the towel was removed from the rack. “You can turn around now, I’m as decent as I’m going to be,” Illidan teased him, and Anduin took a few deep, slow, calming breaths before turning and nodding at him, as impassively as he could. 

“Stay here, I’ll go and have someone fetch you some clothing quickly, then you can join me for supper,” Anduin said firmly, breezing past the dripping elf towards the door. 

The last thing he heard before the door closed behind him was the sound of deep, rich laughter, the relaxed chuckle of an amused Night Elf.


	2. Chapter 2

Anduin stared across the grand table at Illidan, who was currently balancing a silver salad fork between two claws like a musical baton, trying to avoid making his mouthful of daggers scrape against the surface and silence that awful screeching noise. 

He sipped his soup quietly. 

Finding him a pair of pants had been...difficult. One of his attendants had ended up paying for several pairs from a leatherworker in town, and even the biggest size meant for an overly-robust Draenei barely fit. As Illidan struggled to get them on over his hooves, Anduin kept sneaking glances at him. 

His skin was violet, but he was only bare on his upper body. Illidan was very, _ very _hairy all the way from his ankles to...a beautiful, somehow naturally-sculpted happy trail leading down his front from just below his navel. Anduin twisted and contorted himself and squinted and as Illidan turned sideways and hopped a little to try and stretch the leathers up the last of the way over his hips, he spotted it. 

Anduin _ immediately _ turned his back fully, feeling his entire face heat up, and stared determinedly in the opposite direction, trying to control his wild, nervous energy. _ Why did you even look in the first place, you fool? _ Anduin chided himself, though he was grinning from ear to ear. _ You knew what you were going to see! You’re lucky he didn’t spot you and think you’re some sort of...pervert. Or - or make fun of you! Or demand to leave… _

“Let me know when you’re ready,” Anduin stated, loud and clear, surreptitiously fanning his face and praying Illidan hadn’t noticed. 

After a few more seconds of shuffling, leather-squeaking, and grunting later, Illidan sighed. “Well, they fit.” There was the sound of hoofsteps and Anduin turned, taking in the sight of the enormous demon hunter bending and stretching and squatting to make sure the leather wouldn’t rip. Thankfully, it seemed thick and hardy enough to stay in one piece. 

At least, for now. 

“Those can’t be comfortable. Please accept my apologies. We can get your measurements in the morning and have more custom pairs made for you.” 

“I do not take gifts well.” Illidan had taken a clean, fresh piece of soft-woven cloth and used it as a blindfold, after individually and carefully washing his face separately. 

“Well it’s either that or you walk around naked, and I can’t have you doing that in the Keep.” 

“Why not? You think I’ll intimidate them? Make them jealous?” Illidan breezed past him, and Anduin choked again at the sight of his gait, the leather hugging all the muscles of his lower back and thighs, and everything in-between. It was as though he were wearing no pants at all, except for the lack of fur. “I’d imagine I already do that, the ones that don’t want to actively kill me.” 

“No one here wants that,” Anduin argued after a breath, hurrying after him. Illidan’s taller form and higher hips meant he had a longer stride, and when he moved with purpose, it took extra to keep up with him. “I want to ensure your safety and comfort here. You did, after all, ask for that.” 

“Oh?” 

“Offering you amnesty just means I’m issuing a royal pardon on your behalf, but I also offer you a sanctuary here. I know - well, I know most of what happened. Shaw gave me a detailed report but I think he left some things out. As long as you’re here, you’re under my protection, and I won’t have any harm come to you.”

Illidan was silent for a moment. “As if anyone, or anything, could harm me at this point, with the powers that I have.” he chuckled, still, it was strained, stressed. 

Anduin very gently, hesitatingly, reached out and gently touched Illidan’s wrist with his fingertips, and the elf turned his head, glancing down at him. “I mean it.” 

“Thank you,” Illidan said, finally, and Anduin smiled. 

Dinner was less than a third of the way served, and already Anduin was wincing at the way Illidan silently struggled with the utensils. He’d tried to have the biggest set given to the Night Elf, knowing that their proportions tended towards larger hands, but even a standard set for the largest of them wasn’t good enough. Not to mention his teeth, a mouth filled with fangs, were clearly not designed for the dishes they were eating, though Illidan said not a word of complaint. 

When the main course arrived, Illidan attempted to cut the roast and use the fork, but the way his hands trembled told Anduin that he was nearing his very last nerve. Quickly, Anduin put down his own silverware, took a piece in his hand, and ripped it off with an audible rending noise. He made a show of it, popping it in his mouth and chewing happily, the taste filling his mouth. 

It was hard to read the NIght Elf’s facial expressions, but Anduin thought he could see gratitude there as Illidan replaced the woefully inadequate fork with his hands, ripping meat off the bone with his hands and teeth. Still, he took his best efforts to keep it as mess-free as possible, skilled at catching drips and crumbs with the linen napkin, well-adapted to this instead. He didn’t have to tell the elf how to behave; Illidan already knew and understood, and had clearly been ready for this, he had just needed the opportunity. 

It was only when dessert was served that Anduin realized his mistake. Illidan’s face lit up at the chocolate ice cream dish placed before him on the table, and then froze a little when the spoon was placed beside it. It was a small one, way too tiny for his hand and mouth, and it wasn’t like he could pick up the scoops in his hand and eat like that. 

Without a thought other than to help, Anduin stood up from his chair, came around to the other side of the table, and picked up the spoon. Illidan raised a brow. “I don’t need to be fed like an infant,” he remarked coolly, and Anduin winced. 

“I’m sorry it looks like that,” he apologized, “I only wanted to assist you…” 

“I can eat by myself,” Illidan growled, grabbing the spoon out of Anduin’s hand and starting to awkwardly shovel the ice cream into his mouth. He only lasted a few bites before he had to stop though, messy drips of melted ice cream on his hand and face and chest, some even on the tablecloth. 

They remained in stubborn silence for a moment, both of them at an awkward impasse, Illidan sitting, Anduin standing. 

“That one isn’t working,” Anduin finally said, turning and grabbing the serving-spoon from the rolling trolley beside the table, the one all the dishes had piled on. He wiped it clean, then returned to Illidan’s side. “This one should fit better.” With its deeper curve, it wouldn’t scrape on Illidan’s teeth as much, and would allow for more in each bite. However…

Anduin yelped as Illidan grabbed him around the middle and tugged him across his lap, sitting upright like a child. He blushed and stared, spoon still in his hand like a sword. “Ah! What was that for?” 

“There are no more chairs.” Illidan stated calmly, and Anduin couldn’t help the blush, feeling his cheeks pulse with his heartbeat as the Night Elf grinned wickedly at him. “So we’ll just have to share. Now, if you would be so kind…” 

Satisfied that he was back in control, Anduin thought of Illidan to himself, that would be enough. He turned a little to scoop up some ice cream, and raised it to the elf’s lips, obediently opening and finally beginning to enjoy the sweet, cold treat. 

“It’s very good,” Illidan managed between bites, when they were nearing the end of the bowl. Anduin had taken a few scoops for himself, as his own helping lay melting on the other end of the table. 

“I told you you’d enjoy it.” Anduin grinned again, so relaxed and at ease by this point that he was leaning against Illidan’s broad, warm chest and the elf wasn’t stopping him. When he put the spoon down for the last time, he leaned sideways, resting his head on Illidan’s shoulder, and Illidan brought a hand up and squeezed Anduin’s arm. They sat like that for a while, digesting their meal, and eventually Anduin yawned, fighting off the sleepiness that came after a good, filling meal. It wasn’t even all that late in the evening!

“Bedtime already?” Illidan chuckled, and Anduin could feel the rumble of his laughter through his chest, like the purring of some sort of enormous cat, and it felt good. 

“Nooo,” Anduin protested, childish, and the fact that he was sitting in a big lap didn’t help matters. “I’m not tired.” 

“Of course you’re not.” Illidan replied, and his tone was doting, not mocking, and the moment was only broken when the attendant came by and removed the push-cart, leaving behind something leaning against the table. Illidan lifted his head, and Anduin looked, reaching out for it. “What is _ that_?” 

“That’s my cane.” Anduin took it in his hand and used it to help lift himself from Illidan’s lap. He stood, grateful for the support, smiling tiredly at the elf. 

“You didn’t need one before.” 

“I wasn’t tired before.” Anduin explained. “I was having a very good day today, but I usually need it in the evenings when I start to wane a bit.” 

“Why do you need a cane at all? You’re barely out of your childhood years, for a human.” Illidan seemed confused, rising to his feet as well, cleaning off the last of the dinner fare with his napkin. 

Anduin considered. “It’s a long story,” he finally admitted, “but I was gravely injured several years ago, and ever since then, my body reacts differently than others to stress and weather and tiredness. With this,” he nodded at his cane, “I can do everything you can - well, except fly!” he laughed gaily. “Sometimes I just need that little bit of extra support, and I can keep going.” 

“Well then,” Illidan nodded, “I’m in need of a comfy place to sit and a warm fire.” 

“I’ll lead the way,” Anduin beamed, and Illidan followed.


	3. Chapter 3

Anduin sprawled in the armchair, happily half-dozing in front of the fireplace in his chambers. Illidan was settled on a nearby couch, and both of them had been tended-to by his staff and were now left alone. Well, he had to assume that Shaw was _ somewhere _ nearby, but as long as he was safe from harm, the agent would never show his face. 

“Despite the stone walls, it seems very...cozy here.” Illidan remarked after a long silence - so long, in fact, that Anduin had to blink himself awake, propping himself more upright in the plush chair. 

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I won’t lie and say it’s not luxury, though I don’t tend to think of it as opulent.” Rich tapestries hung in the formal rooms, carpets and linens and shining armour statues, but in his private chambers, it was almost stark. Austere. His personal rooms had simple wooden furniture for chairs and writing-desks and chests of drawers. Only his bedroom, with its massive four-posted bed and blazing hearth surrounded by cozy chairs had any feeling of comfort to it. “I’ve lived in these rooms since I was a boy.”

“I meant that.” Illidan gestured at the fireplace. “It takes up practically the entire room.” 

Anduin laughed, shaking his head. “Hardly. Though I do like it. I suppose it’s fair different from...er, Val...sharah?” he suddenly realized the folly of what he had been about to say. Illidan had never lived in Teldrassil, he had been dead for most of the time the tree had been off the coast of Kalimdor. And before then, he had been imprisoned beneath another tree. And before that…

“Suramar has always been lavish, and I saw that after ten thousand years it had not changed,” Illidan remarked without any trace of scorn in his voice. “Still choked with magic, still choked by its nobility.” 

Anduin winced. It was hard to predict how Illidan would react to anything he said. “But Lady Thalyssra could have been a great ally to our forces. Still, I’m glad that we were able to help save her people and liberate the city.” 

Illidan reached out a great hand and extended a finger, poking Anduin’s head with the tip of his claw. Anduin blinked. “It’s all right. You don’t have to hold back from criticizing Tyrande’s bad decisions in front of me. After all, I’m one of them.” 

Anduin had to chuckle at that. “I suppose that’s true.” he took Illidan’s hand from where it was, near his head, and inspected him. Illidan allowed this, casual and calm, as though Anduin were an inquisitive child and he was being ever so patient. “I just can’t get over how much bigger you are…” he marveled, holding up his own palm. It was absolutely dwarfed by the dark violet skin. 

Illidan closed the tops of his fingers over Anduin’s, and he heard the elf snicker. “If you think my _ hands _are big-” 

Anduin dropped his palm like a hot rock and scrambled backwards in his chair, awkward, staring determinedly into the fire and feeling his whole face burning. _ Oh gods, _ had Illidan _ really _ said that!? To _ him?! _ “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

“-then you should see my _ wings _,” Illidan crowed, flapping out one over Anduin like a blanket in his chair. 

He was either the most oblivious or the most frustrating man in all of existence, and Anduin made an irritated noise in his throat before gently - _ gently! - _ pushing the wing away. “Your wings are _ very _impressive,” Anduin deadpanned, unable to hide his grin, “and I’m sure you’ll make a bat very happy someday with them.” 

Illidan snorted, retracting his wing gently and turning his head to focus on the human king. He leaned his chin on an elbow and focused with such intensity that Anduin had to look away, even though he could not tell where Illidan was staring through the blindfold. 

“What...what _ can _you see, with those eyes of yours?” Anduin finally murmured, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

“Power,” Illidan replied. “Energy, the core of a being, magic, whatever fuels it. The essence of demons glows brightly to me. I can see that,” he gestured with a sweeping motion at the fire, “and I can see that.” he flicked his hand over to one of the wall sconces, lit up against the stone wall. “And…” his head went back to Anduin. “I can see _ you _.” 

“Me? What of me can you see, though, if you’re seeing magic?” 

“I see a blaze of light that is brighter than the sun.” 

Anduin, despite himself, blushed. “Oh. Is that...my Light?” 

“What else would it be?” 

Anduin made a small face, arching an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be an insult. Surely it wasn’t, but it was an odd response. “So...if you can see my Light, what about, what about the rest of me? Can you see what I look like?” 

Illidan tilted his head, looking at him sideways. Anduin tilted his head to match the angle. “No,” Illidan finally admitted, calm. “I can see a vague shape of you, an outline, but that is all. I can’t see the clothes you wear or the expression on your face. When you get angry or upset, the Light in you becomes unsettled, and when you’re calm, I can read that. Demons are always angry, and the vision I have helps me see that anger and that movement. I am a hunter.” he explained, simply. 

“But you _ did _see colours, before.” Anduin pressed, feeling more bold, sitting up in his chair and turning his whole body, pressed against the arm of it. “Wait, do you know what you even look like now? Can you see your own energy, as you put it, in a mirror? What about in the reflection of water? Or those who have no magic? What happens when a person dies? Do they become invisible? How do you walk if you can’t see the floor? How do you fly without bumping into things? How do you-” 

“Still your mind,” Illidan interrupted crossly, “and pick one question at a time, unless your intent is to kill me with curiosity.” 

He sat back, sheepish. “I apologize. I’ve never had the chance to talk to a demon hunter like this at length, and you’re quite unique.” 

“I suppose I am.” Illidan was silent for just long enough for Anduin to get antsy again, before speaking. “Very well, I’ll answer you. I have a notion of what I look like. If you closed your eyes, you’d still know where all your body parts were. I can feel the weight of my horns, the build of my wings, and know where my legs will land when I take a step. At all times, the energies of living beings - including my own - are radiating outward, creating shapes and surfaces. I know the floor is there, and I know that it’s flagstone because of the texture on my hooves and the sound it makes to my ears. The same thing happens when I fly. If there are no others, my own energies create enough space around me that I can navigate safely.” 

“Fascinating!” Anduin was on the edge of his seat again, eager to hear more. “So you can read these energies like echos and waves…” 

“In a way.” Illidan nodded. He smirked. “Your Light is expanding. You can’t hide that excitement from me, you’re easier to read than a Felguard.” 

Anduin grimaced and fell back a bit. “I shall never allow you to play against me at cards, if you can detect that!” 

“Considering I can’t read the cards, you might take that up anyway.” 

_ One thing after another! Would he ever get his foot out of his mouth? _“Please, let me apologize again...it seems I keep doing that.” 

There was a soft puff as Illidan got up off the couch and crouched in front of Anduin in his chair. The human king felt very small indeed, as the massive Night Elf lifted a clawed hand and brought it to his face. “What…” he murmured, “do you look like, on the outside?” 

Anduin took a breath. “I’m...well I’m shorter than you, I’m not as muscled as a warrior but I can hold my own in plate-” 

“What are your colours?” 

“My...colours?” 

Illidan flicked some hair out of Anduin’s eyes. “What’s this?”

“It’s my hair…” 

“Are you the thickest - _ what colour is your hair._” 

“Oh!” Anduin snapped a hand up, guiding Illidan in closer, letting him place his palm over the top of his head, feeling the texture of his hair. “Well, I’m...I’m a blond.” 

“So you look like a broom.” 

“I do not!” Anduin squawked indignantly. 

“Then be more descriptive.” 

He considered, then looked up again. “My hair is long, and it hangs past my shoulders when it’s loose. Normally I tie it back, to keep it out of the way, but some always breaks free and rests at the side of my face. Inside or at night it looks darker, but outside in summer it gets brighter, like the sun on the grain in Westfall. My eyes are blue, not dark blue like the night sky but a more even blue, like a river running through the forest. My skin is pale, like powder snow over the cherry blossoms of Pandaria.” he adjusted the way he sat in his seat, bringing Illidan’s hand down from his hair and across his face, letting the massive palm spread from his nose to his ear. “I have human features, smaller curved ears and a long nose that gave me grief in childhood when it was too big for my face.” he smiled. “You can feel where my chin meets my neck, below the shoulders I’m covered in scars from the breaking of the Divine Bell. I’ll have to tell you another time, about that…” his voice fell away as Illidan’s hand trailed down, his thumb on the prominence of Anduin’s throat, as it bobbed when he swallowed. 

“Very descriptive,” Illidan murmured, and he wasn’t teasing at all, though Anduin felt foolish for using such flowery language, the elf seemed to take to it. “And these? What are these like?” his thumb went up, brushing over Anduin’s lips, and Anduin _ burned_. 

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Anduin breathed.


	4. Chapter 4

For all his flirting, Anduin was surprised when Illidan finally pressed their lips together. He half-expected the Night elf to be joking, but when the kiss began, he melted, eyes falling shut, feeling as though he were the heroine of some Steamy Romance Novel, enjoying the sensation of the moment. 

However, after another moment of not _ going _anywhere, Anduin opened his eyes and pulled away briefly. 

“Umm…” he began, hoping it wasn’t awkward. Illidan just peered at him through the blindfold. 

“What is it?” the elf inquired. 

“Well, I...is...is that all?” Anduin asked weakly. 

Illidan seemed nonplussed. Anduin finally leaned back in to Illidan’s face and captured his lips in a kiss once more, and instead of waiting for Illidan to lead, took the initiative himself and deepend it. The demon hunter slowly followed him, coaxed into it, mouth open, tongue exploring. It grew hotter and hotter until- 

Anduin had to pull back, gasping, too hard to think straight, and as he attempted to climb off his chair into Illidan’s lap, the crouching demon hunter fell backwards onto the stone floor, and Anduin laughed awkwardly, climbing off and shakily getting to his feet. 

“Uh, I guess we m-may be moving too quickly, hmm?” he admitted. “We probably shouldn’t even be doing this, you’re a guest in my home, this isn’t diplomatic…” 

“Fuck diplomacy,” Illidan growled, grabbing Anduin by his hips and hoisting him clear off the ground. Anduin whooped with surprised laughter, hands scrambling at Illidan’s shoulders and back for a moment as he got his balance. However, Illidan just seemed to be turning this way and that, pivoting. 

“Umm...my bed is that way,” Anduin gestured sideways at a doorway, and Illidan marched off, with an amused king over his shoulder. 

He was tossed down onto the bed none too gracefully, but Anduin didn’t care, and Illidan just as quickly began touching him, caressing him, stroking his body through his clothes, and _ oh_, even if he hadn’t known how to kiss properly, he sure knew how to do _ this_. Anduin panted, reaching up and out to touch Illidan, letting his hands explore and play over the vast expanse of skin, before the demon hunter grew impatient. 

“Get these off if you don’t want them ripped from you,” Illidan growled, and Anduin laughed as he sat up and began quickly peeling off his shirt and undoing his pants. Illidan didn’t have much to remove, himself, as they both moved up the bed into the pillows, Anduin on his back and Illidan towering over him, almost blotting out the light from the window, so massive was he over the small human king. 

Reaching down made Anduin blush. Illidan was _ enormous_, so big that he wondered for a moment if he would even be able to deal with that. Due to his royal upbringing, he’d had a fairly comprehensive sexual education - can’t have royal succession line if you don’t know everything about child-making and all the wonders of an adult body - and he wasn’t exactly a virgin himself, much to his father’s chagrin. Still, he hadn’t fathered any children of the encounter, and despite his handful of secrets with male and female partners, hadn’t really found any specific preferences. 

Still, he bravely soldiered on, taking the hot, heavy cock in his hand and stroking. The sound it produced from Illidan’s chest was _ mesmerizing_, somewhere between the roar of a lion and the groan of an ancient mountainside. It made his hips _ ache_. 

“Illidan,” he panted, looking up into the demon hunter’s face, “I _ want _ you.” 

If he didn’t know how to kiss, did he know how to fuck? Surely he could figure it out. Regardless, Anduin squirmed until he could roll and reach one of the bedside tables, digging under the parchment for the little bottle. By the time he rolled back though, he was having second thoughts about the whole thing. Illidan was kneeling over him, cock throbbing and stiff between his hips, but the demon hunter looked confused and a bit lost. 

“Illidan,” Anduin settled quietly at the Night elf’s knees. “Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine,” Illidan brushed him off, but his voice wavered, and Anduin sensed that _ something _must be wrong. 

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” Anduin breathed softly, and when he reached up, this time Illidan went with him, laying down on the bed, face to face, on their sides, looking at each other. 

“Of course I’m - what do you mean, _ not ready_.” 

“What, do you want me to make a ‘you are not prepared’ joke?” Anduin bit his lip, and watched Illidan pull a face, but it still got a chuckle out of him. It was good to hear it, that laughter. “I apologize. You just seem, well, conflicted.” 

Illidan said nothing. Anduin, not wanting to humiliate him or push the matter, instead threw his arm over Illidan’s side and tugged him close, resting his head on the Night elf’s broad bicep. “I think this is nice, too. We can just lay like this for a while.” 

This seemed to be the right thing. Illidan resumed his lazy exploration of Anduin’s body, and Anduin finally turned in on himself, watching him trace every scar with reverence. He didn’t want to talk about the violence of it, not here, not now, but perhaps later, another time. The whole time, he remained stoic and silent, and Anduin tried to support that, doing his best to just be warm and comforting, to be whatever the demon hunter might need in that moment. 

Eventually the wandering hand found his cock again, and Anduin gasped softly as Illidan explored that too, stroking him, not long until he was as hard as he was previously, beginning to leak with desire. “That’s good,” he panted, “that feels good.” 

The words seemed to ignite something in Illidan, because he moved faster, stroking and squeezing and it was all Anduin could do to gasp and try to keep up, hips rolling and jerking and twitching, and as he grabbed Illidan’s arm and groaned again at how good it was, his lone remaining brain cell made the connection and switched over. 

“Illidan,” Anduin breathed, “_you’re _ so good, _ you’re _so good to me, please keep going, love when you touch - love this, you’re so good, you’re doing so good-” 

It was like magic. Illidan was squirming and writhing against him over the blankets, both of them grinding together on the bed, and the enormous elf pulled him in for a hungry kiss, more desperate than before, Anduin feeling that heavy cock against him again, grabbing for it with his hand and hearing Illidan hiss against him, rocking as they each stroked one another. 

Unsurprisingly, Anduin finished first, clutching at Illidan tightly, desperate, groaning and shuddering as he pulsed through his orgasm in the demon hunter’s palm, but refusing to neglect his partner. He leaned in to continue to breathe and murmur into Illidan’s ear how good he was, unrelenting, squeezing and stroking until Anduin was rewarded with a shout and a hot burst of cum against his lower belly. To his surprise and interest, Illidan just kept coming and coming until he was finally spent, and Anduin - and his blankets - were a complete mess. 

Anduin laughed weakly, squirming and trying to pull the upper blanket off to limited success, since Illidan was there, too, heavy as an Elekk and just as stubborn. Finally they were freed, and he used it to clean himself off before settling back with him. 

“Hmm-mmm,” he was practically beyond words, letting Anduin manipulate him a little until they were snuggled close, and then they were asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

He was awakened as he usually was, by an abrupt beam of sunlight on his face. Anduin grimaced, turning his face away from the offending open window, burying it in Illidan’s shoulder, only to be met with a chuckle from the voice of his harasser. 

“Come on, Wrynn, the day is waiting.” Mathias Shaw’s overly-cheerful voice was grating at so early an hour, but Anduin dutifully scrubbed his eyes and sat up, half-heartedly glaring at his Spymaster. “Ahh, there you are. Going to say it?” 

“Must we do this every morning, Shaw?” Anduin murmured sleepily. 

“Every morning, Wrynn.” 

Anduin sighed. “His Majesty, High King of the Alliance, King of Stormwind, Anduin Llane Wrynn, reporting for duty, _ sir_.” 

Shaw clapped his hands. “Well done, Wrynn. Now.” he began to open all the windows in the bedroom, discussing all the events that had transpired since Anduin and Illidan had finished dinner the night before, catching him up on everything he had missed. “And of course, the large elf. Well done last night, Majesty, you were in excellent form-”

“By the gods themselves, Shaw, if you value your life, do _ not _talk about my sex life. Especially not in front of me.” 

Shaw just gave him a shit-eating grin and nodded at Illidan, who was rolling over and sitting up, glancing in his direction and frowning. 

“Who’s this?” 

“My spymaster.” Anduin gestured, and Shaw flew into an over-the-top bow. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. Take no notice of me most times, we’re always nearby.” 

“Who’s always nearby?” 

“Why, SI:7 of course.” Shaw began to give a little spiel about the spies and their services, and Anduin could feel the tension that had built up in Illidan ebb away as it became clear that Shaw wasn’t going to hurt him. He did, after all, sneak up on them while they were unconscious - a bold decision when it came to the leader of the Illidari. 

Illidan slung his legs around the side of the bed and Shaw didn’t even blink as the enormous, naked elf stood to his full height and stretched, his wings almost knocking into the bedposts. Anduin glanced at him sideways - did he have no shame, no need for privacy? Even he himself always kept the blankets at his hips until Shaw had left the room again. 

“You have three meetings today,” Shaw continued, completely ignoring Illidan, who was now looking around the bedroom in proper daylight, inspecting the curtains and tapestries. “Velen would like to see you over breakfast. It’s being prepared in the main dining chamber. Early afternoon…” he went on with more detail and Anduin focused more on him than Illidan, though he was a mighty distraction. 

At the end, though, both of their heads whipped at Shaw in surprise. 

“Did you say Malfurion and Tyrande are coming?!” 

Illidan retreated to the bed at the mention of their names, growling and muttering something under his breath, pulling the blankets over his head. Both Shaw and Anduin stared at the Illidan-sized lump for a moment. 

Shaw broke the silence. “Uhh...will that be a problem?” 

“I don’t want to see them.” 

“Too much family tension?” Anduin guessed, prodding the lump with a finger. The lump did not budge. 

“Did they come to see me in particular?” the lump inquired. 

Shaw considered. “No, though they did mention they wanted to speak to you. Lady Tyrande wanted to speak to Anduin regarding another matter, but said her husband wanted to come along when they heard you would be staying here.” 

“They just want to spy on me and make sure I don’t cause trouble.” 

“Trust me, if anyone in this city is spying on you, it’s us,” Shaw reassured the lump, nodding sagely. “We’d know if there were any other parties, and trust me when I say, we don’t give a rat’s ass about what you get up to, as long as it doesn’t compromise security.” 

“It’s true,” Anduin laid a hand on the Illidan-lump, trying to be soothing. “I just got so used to them that I just sort of...always assume I’m being watched, and it sort of slips my mind, most of the time. You forget you’re constantly under surveillance, because they’re so subtle about it you’d never spot them.” 

Shaw swelled with pride. “Such praise, Majesty. As well as evidenced by last night, you never noticed us at all when we were watching you-” 

Anduin whipped a pillow at him so hard and fast that only his Spymaster could’ve dodged it. 

Breakfast was waiting for him by the time he had freshened up and dressed, tying his hair back and walking with Illidan to the table. During the night, staff had acquired more clothing for him, and Illidan was properly dressed now, with a shirt and everything, though he picked at the buttons uncomfortably. 

“It itches,” he whined to Anduin, as they settled at the table opposite of Velen and one of his attendants. Velen, for his part, did his best to not draw attention to the fretting demon hunter as he took his meal and began to discuss matters. 

After a few minutes of uninvolvement, Illidan’s boredom made him grow twitchy, and Anduin noticed him rocking back and forth in his seat. Wordlessly he gestured and a staff member came over and left something on the table beside him. 

Frowning at the mystery object, Illidan took it. In his grasp, it _ moved_, and he nearly dropped it. In fact, he had to fight to keep it in his hands, and within seconds it had his attention completely, enraptured and silent as the little thing took every ounce of concentration to keep from losing it under the table. 

Anduin smiled, continuing his conversation. Finally, when matters were done, he and Velen shared a brief embrace before the ancient Draenei left the room. 

He turned to Illidan. “All finished?” 

“What...what _ is _this thing?” Illidan breathed, bringing his hands above the table and letting the object fall onto the tablecloth. 

Anduin picked it up and kept it between his hands, expertly. “Something my father used to give me when I was a child and needed to keep still during long, boring meetings. He called it a fidget-toy, something to stop me from, well, fidgeting in my chair!” he laughed. “I could see that it was going to be bad for you, and I had a feeling you might need some help. Gnomish technology.” 

“They had it at the ready?” Illidan frowned at Anduin. “Surely I’m not _ that _blind…” 

“No, I mean, they tend to have it for _ me_,” Anduin shook his head. “I still need it sometimes, if I have to have an audience for hours. I’ll use it under the table, something to keep my hands busy while I listen.” 

“Could I...just have one?” Illidan inquired, face turned towards him. “Keep it in a pocket?” 

“Well, considering you’ll be wearing different clothes frequently, that’s probably a bad idea.” Anduin bit his lip. “Might get lost, or forgotten in an old pair.” 

“True.” Illidan admitted. He played with it for a few seconds longer, pushing it back and forth on the table between his claws, before standing up. “I think I’ll be fine, knowing about it.” 

“Like my cane, or my chair, someone will always have it at the ready for you.” Anduin promised, and they both headed out of the Keep into the mid-morning air. 

The good mood remained for most of the day, fading only when Anduin took his feet out of the river by the Keep and reminded Illidan that they would be receiving his brother and Tyrande in an hour. While Illidan’s words were calm, his body language spoke volumes: tense, upset, nervousness, anxiety. Anduin put his socks and boots back on after drying off his feet with a towel, and, taking Illidan by the hand, walked with him back inside. He kept his head tucked against the demon hunter’s shoulder all the way back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fantastic serving of art from the always-amazing Siggy!  
https://twitter.com/siggykuu/status/1179415534766628867

Tyrande was sitting stately in a chair by the fire, Malfurion standing at her side, when Illidan and Anduin entered the room. The two Night Elves bore completely different expressions on their faces: Tyrande’s went dark at the sight of the demon hunter, but Malfurion’s lit up, his eyes widening, their soft glow filling his face and showing the change to a smile. 

“So it _ is _true,” Malfurion spoke first, taking a step, holding out his hand, nodding. “You’ve chosen to stay here, in Stormwind. It is good to see you safe-” 

“That is not what we are here for, my beloved,” Tyrande did not rise from her chair, but Malfurion’s hand fell and he retreated to stand by her again. “Illidan, leave us. I wished to speak to the King, alone.” 

Anduin looked between Malfurion and Illidan, silently trying to tell them to go off together, but Illidan’s stubbornness and Malfurion’s unwillingness to defy his wife worked against them, and Illidan turned his back and walked from the room. Unable to hide his wince, he straightened himself up, and went to join Tyrande by the fire. 

“I wished to discuss the process of the healing of Azeroth,” Tyrande began, and Malfurion sat down as well, finding a nearby couch. The three of them began to talk - Malfurion about the Cenarion circle sending druids to Silithus, since the ones who had been stationed at the Cenarion Hold had been killed by the sword. He went quiet after that, and Tyrande continued, talking about the priestesses of Elune she had sent to create moonwells, in an attempt to begin the healing process, but the goblins mining Azerite had prevented this. She produced a small amount of the strange crystal-like material, and Anduin turned it over in his hands, watching it shimmer in the firelight. It was blue and gold, and eerie in its own way. 

The lifeblood of his planet on his hands. 

It dropped from his fingers at the sound of a violent scream from the grand hallway. 

Anduin dashed from the room, Tyrande and Malfurion hot on his heels, all three of them with magic at the ready. 

He was not prepared for the vision in the stone corridor. 

Illidan was bound by some sort of glowing, ethereal bonds, being dragged down the hall by what appeared to be a Warden, though Anduin couldn’t quite tell. His focus was mainly on the gut-wrenching noises coming from the captured demon hunter. 

Before he could get another step closer, though, a blue and silver streak shot from the shadows and slammed against Illidan. Mathias Shaw sliced through the ropes with an easy pull from a wicked-looking dagger, leaving the three others to chase after the would-be abductor. 

Malfurion’s roots caught them by the leg, growing out of the gaps in the Keep’s stone floor, and Tyrande’s longer legs had her reaching the Warden next.

“Maiev?!” 

Shock and confusion gave way to a wave of anger, and Anduin nearly pushed Tyrande aside to get to her. “What have you done?! Why would you do this?!” 

Maiev cursed at him, dark words in Darnassian he barely understood, spitting at his feet and trying to free her legs. Her rope lay unwound across the floor, and as Malfurion stooped to pick it up, she yanked it back. 

The glowing cord lashed across his cheek, cutting him open. The look of shock and pain on his face pushed Anduin over the edge. 

He didn’t even realize what he was doing as the Light gathered around his hands and poured through him, only the urge to _ protect_, and Anduin roared and _ shoved_. 

Maiev went flying. 

There was a little ripped vine on the floor from where she’d been, and an enormous hole in a stained-glass window from where she’d gone straight through it. 

He stood there, chest heaving, as his guards rushed in, noise and clamouring of weapons, metal boots on stone. 

Anduin was dizzy for a moment, drained and confused, turning. The world was sideways. Tyrande and Malfurion were on the floor - no, they were kneeling on the floor, Tyrande inspecting his wound, and Shaw was beyond them, with Illidan, what were they doing? 

“You,” he accused the pair of Night Elves, in a voice that went in and out, uneven, breathless. “You brought her here, you tried to distract me so she could-” 

“No.” Tyrande said coldly, not even looking at him. Malfurion just gave him a sad, lost puppy-dog look, and the world slowly began to right itself, back onto an even level. “I would never condone this. After his death at the Black Temple, I tried to let go of my feelings towards him. My distrust. My bitterness. When he was brought back, I...I could not speak to him. But I no longer hate him the way I once might have. His fate is not mine to decide.” 

Anduin walked past them, on fire as he spotted Shaw with his hands on Illidan’s arms, staring into the large face above. 

Illidan was blank, rocking back and forth, shaking and jerky every few seconds, looking as though he were about to vomit. It was clear that Shaw was the only thing keeping him on his feet and upright. 

“We need to get him lying down, quickly.” 

Anduin helped, and the two of them brought Illidan out of the hallway and through two more into the King’s bedroom, laying him down gently on the bed. Illidan was sweating, shaking, still wordless, still vacant. 

“How did this happen?” Anduin demanded, kneeling at the Night Elf’s side on the bed, trying to calm him, trying to get him to come back. 

“I don’t know.” Shaw finally admitted. “I was watching you, as I always am, and I suppose no one was watching-” 

“Someone must _ always _ be watching him.” Anduin hissed. “What were you thinking!? I have no idea what she intended, but this - did she poison him or something? What was in that rope?” 

“Nothing,” Shaw said quietly. “I touched it with my bare hands. Anduin, I need to tell you something important.” 

He paused, looking over at him. His Spymaster almost never used his first name. It was enough to alert him that something was deeply, deeply wrong. “What is it?” 

“Something I wasn’t present for, but part of my detailed reports of what transpired on Argus, while fighting the Burning Legion.” Shaw walked up to the bed, going round the other side and slowly lifting a pillow - Anduin’s pillow - and easing it into Illidan’s hands. The Night Elf grabbed for it, pressing it to his chest and face, hugging it to himself for dear life. The shaking slowly stopped. “It’s a long story, but the crux of it - what I think was - Maiev was essentially ensnaring him to evoke memories of an even crueller torture that happened there. He was forcefully bound and a crazed Naaru attempted to...purify him. To cleanse his Fel and replace it with Light. Similar to the Lightforged Draenei. He...he fought her. But she was determined, and he destroyed her.” Shaw let out a breath. “I believed it, of course, but I didn’t realize how badly it had affected him until I saw him like this. Torture can do that to a person.” 

“Torture…” Anduin lifted his fingertips and gently brushed them across Illidan’s brow. It was followed by a whine, and Illidan rolling towards him. “Ah! Hey, it’s all right, it’s all right. I’m here. I’m right here. Nobody can hurt you. Nobody will hurt you. I’m going to protect you, okay?” 

Still beyond words, Illidan didn’t answer him. Instead he just whined, claws digging into the pillow. Anduin hesitated, afraid of those talons for a moment, and then gently pushed some of Illidan’s soaked bangs out of his face. 

It was good. Illidan seemed soothed by the gentle touch, and Anduin kept going, very softly fixing his hair and his face, slowly beginning to lay down next to him, and after a moment, Shaw spoke again. 

“Lady Tyrande and Malfurion would like to see you and Illidan in the morning.” He was calm. “She is with SI:7 chasing down Maiev, but the other Stormrage is resting comfortably in one of the guest chambers.” 

Anduin squirmed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Still not completely sure they hadn’t sicced the wily Warden on Illidan...but they’d clearly been appalled at her behaviour, either way. 

“Tell then I’ll see them after breakfast. I need to make sure Illidan comes back.”

“Indeed. I’ll have the message sent. In the meantime, let me fade out.”

“Thank you, Mathias.”

“Of course.”

When Anduin sat up to start taking off his day-clothes, Shaw had made himself unseen. He knew his Spymaster was in the room somewhere, but he was so good at hiding that he sometimes forgot about him. Illidan was more lucid now, still holding the pillow but no longer in a death grip. 

Anduin put his outer robes on a hook and stripped his under-shirt and pants into a hamper, pulling on a nightshirt and getting under the blankets. Slowly, he managed to manoeuvre the enormous demon hunter underneath as well, and began to gently rub the backs of Illidan’s hands with his thumbs. 

Illidan relaxed, and finally let go of the pillow altogether. Anduin retrieved it, replacing it with himself. He rested his head on it, allowing Illidan to embrace him fully. 

“How are you doing?” Anduin inquired, gently working his fingers over the buttons of Illidan’s shirt. It had some cuts from Shaw’s knife, and he had a feeling Illidan wouldn’t want it fixed, even if it could be. “Let’s get this off.” 

Illidan released him to sit up, and Anduin knelt between his legs. The hunter raised his arms like an obedient child, and Anduin took the shirt free. He left the pants for now, as Illidan didn’t indicate that he wanted or needed them off. 

“Illidan?”

Illidan said something softly in Darnassian. 

“Did you want me to go get Malfurion?”

“No.” He put his hands on Anduin’s thighs. One of his thumbs brushed against the hem of his night-shirt, sliding underneath. Anduin raised an eyebrow in surprise. 

“Did you want to-now?”

“No.” Illidan said again, and his hand retreated, as if in shame, and Anduin caught it and put it back on his thigh.

“I think you just want to touch me. And that’s okay. I promise it is. You can touch me anywhere, I trust that you just want to feel me and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Illidan slumped forward, his head dropping on to Anduin’s shoulder. Anduin put a hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair where it flowed freely under his horns. Freed from that high-tail, Illidan’s hair was down to his waist. 

Anduin wished he knew more Darnassian. He’d had lessons for diplomacy of course, but since all major treaties were in Common, he’d never really known the nuances. Especially the dialect that was spoken by the truly ancient elves. 

Illidan’s hands were touching his exposed skin, exploring without looking - though what looking could he do with no eyes - sliding over his thighs, his knees, up the backs of his arms, up his neck and back down again. Anduin shivered at the intimacy, his hands slipping to Illidan’s back and touching his closely-folded wings. 

“Be careful with those,” Illidan tumbled against his shoulder, and Anduin smiled.

“I promise I will be. I wanted to see what they felt like.” Anduin murmured. “They’re not like bat wings at all. They’re heavy.” 

“Demon wings. The bones are solid, not hollow. A combination of lift and fel magic keeps me in flight.” Illidan pulled back and stretched out a wing to its maximum span to show. There were a few rips and scars, but for the most part, the webbing was intact, and the massive muscles were in evidence when he flexed them. “I should take you flying some time.” 

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much.” Anduin grinned, sitting back, hands on his knees. “I’d like to go flying with you some time very soon. Not tonight but maybe even as soon as tomorrow!”

“You’re an eager one.” Illidan chuckled, then squirmed. “Perhaps I should take you up on that offer and actually let someone take my measurements for properly-fitting pants.” 

Anduin laughed, watching as Illidan sat off the edge of the bed and managed to get them off. The sigh of relief was audible as he sat back under the blankets again. 

They remained in still silence for a moment. 

“About what happened earlier.” 

“It’s up to you if you want to talk about it.” Anduin said quietly. “If you do, I’m here. If you don’t, that’s fine. If you want to, later, that’s all right too.”

“You are...a most unusual human.” Illidan finally settled on, and Anduin just smiled, easing sideways down again, and laughing as the demon hunter just flopped, causing the pillows to let loose a _ floomph _of air. 

“I like to try and lead by example,” Anduin smiled, and Illidan tugged him in for a gentle kiss, which was more chaste and light than anything, but still welcomed. It went on, then Illidan tucked him in close, and Anduin went. 


	7. Chapter 7

The curtains opened to the sunrise, but Anduin was already awake. He had woken a short while before Shaw entered the room, and was praying silently, sitting loosely on the bed, with his eyes closed. Meditation and prayer was still important to him as a priest, and he didn’t have much time during these busy days for it as High King. 

“Good morning, Majesty. How are you faring?” 

“Better than last night.” Anduin smiled gently, watching as Shaw moved around the room from window to window, drawing back the cloth. “You know...mornings when I’m already awake, that has no effect on me. You don’t have to do that.”

“What if I want to?” he was adjusting one, tying it up with a bit of string that was behind the latch. “Why do you pray by yourself when there’s a cathedral within spitting distance?” 

“I’d prefer you not measure things in such a vulgar manner, Shaw, but I’ve come to expect that from you.” Anduin couldn’t help but grin. “And I suppose I do it because it just feels right.” 

Shaw tapped the side of his nose. Anduin relaxed. 

“What of the Night elves?” 

“Tyrande is resting. Malfurion is awake, he’s actually out in the gardens by the library, talking with some of the guards.” 

“We could go and see him before she wakes up.” Anduin turned, then prodded at Illidan a little. “Hmm-mm. Time to wake up.” 

Illidan snorted and grunted something in Darnassian, rolling over and scratching his stomach. Anduin smothered a giggle with his hand. 

“He’s an enormous idiot, Majesty, and I doubt that his presence here will go unnoticed by your cohorts for too much longer.” Shaw said, in his polite-impolite way. “But I do have something better for him to wear.” 

“Really?” Anduin glanced over. 

Shaw drew a still-free curtain over his chest like a sash. “What do you think?” 

“I think he’ll murder you.” 

“I love a challenge.” 

“Be serious.” 

“Majesty, I always am.” he bowed, then produced something from behind the curtain. Anduin sat up more, looking over at him. Shaw unrolled a bundle. 

“It looks like...some sort of...skirt?” 

“It’s a half-robe. The dwarves call them _ kilt_. It binds at the waist and hangs below the knee, not interfering with the way one walks. It may look a skirt, but only the men wear them, and you can easily adjust the size.” 

“It’ll work easier than pants.” Anduin nodded, then laughed as Illidan flopped an arm over his lap, waking up slowly. “There you are. Good morning, sleepyhead.” 

“I’ve woken up to worse,” Illidan playfully nipped Anduin’s side, and Anduin squirmed and laughed at the tickling sensation. “Stop moving. I’m hungry.” 

“Well, I’m not breakfast. We’ll get some food. Meanwhile, Shaw has something for you.” 

Illidan regarded the man with interest, taking the offered kilt and inspecting it, winding it over and over in his hands, feeling the texture of the heavy cloth. “Well, it’s not what I normally wear, but around here, I have little need of protective gear.” he pointed out. 

“If you still want proper pants, we can have you measured,” Anduin suggested, but Illidan shrugged one shoulder and then shook his head. 

“This is fine, for now. Better than struggling to get them on and off.” he slid from the bed, tying it around his waist and adjusting. The length was good; it fell to just below his knees and he bent and stretched, walking around the room. 

Shaw nodded to Anduin. “I’ll have breakfast brought to you and the others in the gardens.” 

Before Anduin could change his mind, he was gone. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Anduin said slowly, watching the enormous Night Elf tromp around his bedroom. “But we’re joining Malfurion in the gardens for our meal.” 

Illidan stopped in his walk, looking over. He was quiet, then nodded. “That sounds agreeable.” 

Sagging with relief, Anduin pushed back the blankets and slid from the bed, grabbing a dressing-robe. “Come on, we need to wash up before we go out to company.” 

“Wash up? Again? We just washed…” 

Anduin paused in tying the robe around his middle, looking up at Illidan, who merely stared back. 

“Some people wash twice a day, though I think that’s excessive, unless you’re working hard and getting filthy,” Anduin pointed out. “But if we’re going to be public figures, once a day is preferable.” 

Illidan didn’t seem to understand. “So...do most people wash more than once a week?” he was following Anduin to the bath, still in his kilt. They made it to the tiled room and Anduin hung up his robe, starting the hot water and sliding into the tub. He let it run until it was half-full, then stopped, starting to wash his hair and body. 

Illidan joined him, the kilt by Anduin’s robe, splashing a bit until he got settled in the bath. It didn’t quite cover his waist, and Anduin had a hard time not looking at the Night Elf’s privates as he scrubbed his hair. He closed his eyes and tried to think of other things to distract himself. 

“You’re lucky this water is so hot,” Illidan drawled, as he washed his own skin, “or I’d assume the heat building in your body is from something _ other _than steam.” 

Anduin blushed harder at that, turning his back and determinedly looking away as he went to rinse his hair. He stiffened as he felt Illidan’s chest press against his back, and whimpered as he felt Illidan’s hips square against his. Not now, surely not now? They were due to have breakfast in a few minutes and he wouldn’t be able to _ move _if-

A hand snaked down and encircled Anduin’s cock under the water, and he whimpered, gripping Illidan’s arm as it slowly jacked him off, and Anduin was grateful for how strong and big the demon hunter was behind him, for it gave him something to brace himself against as he panted, head back, slippery from soap as he surrendered to the pleasure and shuddered through a quick and dirty climax in the bath. 

“Eww, now the water is even filthier,” Anduin teased him lightly, panting. Illidan poked him with a claw and chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “Your turn?” 

“Next time.” Illidan was prodding the pipe, then found the faucet to shower, rinsing off. Anduin showed him how to remove the stopper to drain the tub, and the two dried off. Illidan spent extra time on his furred legs before putting the kilt back on, and they went back to his rooms to quickly allow Anduin to dress in his semi-formals before heading to the garden. 

The sun was warm on their faces as they emerged, and Illidan wasn’t as tense as Anduin feared he would be. When they stood in the garden at last, Malfurion rose to his feet from where he’d been sitting, and came over to them. 

“_Ishnu-alah_,” Malfurion bowed politely, and Anduin clasped his hands and echoed it back, though Illidan did not. Instead, he wavered, hesitating, and Anduin, smiling, stepped to one side. 

“I’ll bring in the breakfast tray,” he offered gently, heading to the stoned path to grab it. When he turned to face them again, the brothers were embracing, and he hid his smile, heading for a sun-lit patch to rest the food tray on, settling down and waiting for them. 

For now, it was just good to see them together like this, casting only one shadow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, rivkael. This one's for you.

Anduin poured tea for the three of them, silently and smiling, just listening to the two twins talking to each other. It was a strange experience; he wasn’t part of the conversation, yet it didn’t feel like eavesdropping. They flitted between Common and Darnassian and something else, he wasn’t sure what it was, perhaps something even older in the Night Elf language, perhaps a secret language of twins. In a way, it made him a little jealous - not of Malfurion, for being so close to Illidan, but just of the relationship for _ being _so close. Anduin had no siblings, and for now, no children. He assumed that within a year or two he would be married and perhaps with a child on the way, as was expected of him now that Varian had died and Anduin was King, but it still seemed so alien, so abstract, that the pang hit him by surprise. 

He _ did _want a family. 

“You’re going to scald yourself,” Illidan chided him, and Anduin felt a massive hand go over his, lifting the pot from his grasp. He realized he’d been so lost in thought that the teacup was about to overflow and burn his hand with the near-boiling water. 

“Ah. Thank you.” Anduin put the other down, carefully bringing the hot tea to his lips, a brief sip before returning it to the saucer. “I know Tyrande would like to speak to me later, but I had no other plans for the day. I was hoping we could spend some time...talking?” 

“That will have to wait,” Malfurion said, clapping Illidan on the back happily. Illidan gave him the most intense side-eye he could, considering he had no eyes. “We are going flying after breakfast!” 

“Oh!” Anduin lit up. “That would be...wonderful…” he deflated as he realized that Malfurion meant the _ two of them_, not the three of them. “I’m sure the view - uh, will be lovely.” 

Malfurion was obliviously cheerful, but Illidan leaned forward and nodded to Anduin. “I’ll take you flying when Tyrande has finished with you. Trust me, you’ll need it.” 

Anduin grinned. 

The three of them sat in the garden and ate breakfast, enjoying the warm sun and soft grass. Malfurion ate a piece of toast with one hand and let his fingers dance around a flower with the other, helping it grow tall and create more buds. Anduin watched, enjoying the magical sight of an Archdruid at work, and even Illidan admitted that it was an impressive display of magic. When he was finished eating, Malfurion used both hands, weaving vines and blossoms into a lattice-work ceiling to create a little bit of shade in one corner where he pointed out that mushrooms were growing. 

“They shouldn’t be in direct sunlight,” he was crouched over them, protective, and Anduin marveled at the ancient Druid’s patience and love for something so small and helpless, “but I don’t want to block the light from getting to the grass and flowers. And it shouldn’t stop the rain, either.” 

Illidan put a hand on Malfurion’s back, and Malfurion turned up his face and beamed at him. Illidan seemed taken aback by the expression of love and emotion, but quickly hid it with a cough, rumbling something about mushrooms not even being that tasty, and Malfurion scolded him for talking loudly about salad in front of the leafy greens. 

Anduin packed up the breakfast tray and let one of the staff lead him back inside, but not before watching as Malfurion transformed into a great horned owl, and Illidan stood at his side. They both pushed off the stone platform together, taking off into the sky. 

He watched until they were a pair of dots against the sun, then went into the Keep. 

Tyrande was waiting for him in his study, patient, calm. She rose to her feet politely when he entered the room, and they then both sat down together. 

“I do wish to offer my formal apologies for last night. I want to reassure you that at no time were either Malfurion or myself aware of Maiev or her plans. We had and have no intention of bringing harm to either him or you, or anyone in Stormwind, unless they take direct threatening action against myself or my people.” 

“I would consider no less.” Anduin agreed. “And I believe you. I...Master Shaw told me about what happened on Argus, what happened to Illidan.” 

Tyrande narrowed her eyes, the glow behind them intensifying. “What happened to him?” 

As if by magic, Shaw swept out of the shadows like a puff of smoke. Even Tyrande flinched when he stepped forward. 

“I took the time to investigate more deeply, my King.” Shaw stood near his side. “High Priestess,” he greeted Tyrande, and she nodded politely. “The Naaru’s name was Xe’ra, the Prime Naaru, one of the first to be forged during the great ordering of the cosmos.” He began to explain the events that had led up to it - the Legion invasions in the Broken Isles and how Khadgar and his group had found the Naaru’s core, from the Xenedar, and the message it bore from Turalyon. He spoke in much more detail, and both Anduin and Tyrande listened with care, and by the end of his tale, when he looked back at Tyrande, she appeared quite shaken. 

“To reject a gift so potent...he must have had unwavering belief in himself and his purpose,” Tyrande mused, not looking at Anduin. “I must consider this matter further. Would it trouble you if we departed tonight?” 

“No, I had no intention of keeping you here if you wanted to go back.” Anduin reassured her. “Or if you wished to stay. Illidan intends to remain here, I’m sure, but you’re free to visit, of course, as you are always welcome in Stormwind.” 

“I may come on business, but my Beloved may join me more often.” Tyrande rose to her feet, and her smile was small, but reassuring. “It has been a long time since I have seen him so…” she considered for a moment. “So...at peace.” 

Anduin bit his tongue to stop from making a comment about his imprisonment, knowing it would not lead to anything good. If this was her attitude now, if she had truly changed towards him, then bringing up a painful past would not help matters. Instead, he merely offered, “Indeed. It’s good, and I’m glad.” And he really was. 

They walked into the Keep’s front grounds together, and stood by the fountain, enjoying the cool spray, until the brothers landed nearby. Malfurion transformed back into his Night Elf body, and embraced his wife. After a few moments of goodbyes, the two of them headed out away from the Keep, leaving Illidan and Anduin by the fountain. 

Anduin tilted his head back, feeling the breeze through his hair, then glanced over at Illidan. The Demon Hunter was standing tall at his side, not moving, just holding there. Rather than speaking, Anduin reached out, and slipped his hand into Illidan’s. The hand tightened around his, squeezing gently, and Anduin squeezed back. 

“It’s a good place here.” Illidan remarked. “Safe.” 

“Yes, it is.” 

Illidan said nothing for a moment. Anduin looked down and away, then up again. 

“If we want to make it in time for dinner, we should...get things going soon.” he suggested quietly. 

Illidan nodded. “You shouldn’t need any preparation before flying, but if you start to feel dizzy or scared, I can land us right away.” 

“I’m not gonna get scared,” Anduin protested, as Illidan picked him up like a child and put the young King on his hip. A strong arm wrapped around him, and he spotted a grin crossing Illidan’s face. 

Then, they were flying. 

The wind howled around Anduin’s head and he squinted against the air and the sunlight, holding on tightly. He made a mental note to grab a pair of Gnomish goggles next time, before forcing his eyes open again and looking down. 

It was incredible. He’d been on the airships before, but this was completely different. Like the kites in Pandaria, the movement was much more natural, dipping and soaring, up and down. He could tell why some might get airsickness from this, but he just laughed, looking all around. “It’s beautiful, Illidan! It’s so beautiful!” 

Illidan moved Anduin, manipulated him to a better angle so that his back was against the hunter’s broad chest, facing forward and down, so he could see what Illidan was flying against. Illidan took them through the city, then over the mountains, and then through the woods, and then past the woods, and into the fields. Green and gold now, with just the hint of leaves turning in early fall, the farmers watching harvest carefully, gnolls here and there, murlocs in the lake, and everywhere the peoples of their lands, hard at work, children at play, enjoying the final days of summer sun. 

He thought his heart would burst from joy. 

Eventually though, they were flying lower and lower, Illidan’s flight paths becoming more and more erratic, and finally Anduin spoke up. 

“I’d like to head back to the Keep, now,” he called over the rush of wind, and the immediate turn back to the stone walls told him how grateful Illidan was, how tired he must be. For all the fel magic keeping him aloft, his wings and body had to be sore from how tightly he was holding the small human against him, how much effort and strain it took to carry a passenger with more weight than he was used to. 

What a gift. 

They landed in the garden area and Illidan almost staggered, but kept upright as they walked down the hallway and into the Keep proper. Anduin sent for a quick meal, watching as Illidan sagged into his chair, wings drooping, rather than their usual position against his back. 

“Next time I shouldn’t keep you in the air for so long,” Anduin admitted, as a hot soup was served while the staff quickly prepared the rest of their supper. “I do tend to get tired easily if I’m excited.” 

“You can’t keep up with me,” Illidan smirked, and Anduin grinned.

“Perhaps not. But I still enjoyed it.” 

They took their meal in relative silence, both of them tired from the long day, and Anduin was grateful for the cane, leaning promisingly against the side of the table for when they were finished. Illidan wouldn’t be able to help him tonight, the hunter was just as exhausted as he was. 

By the time they made it back to his room, Anduin was limping heavily, listing even with the use of his cane, stumbling into his bedroom and had to lean against the door-frame. Illidan, almost at the bed, paused to turn, but Anduin, determined, slowly made his way over and rolled onto the blankets, chest heaving. 

“Do you want me to help you undress?” Illidan finally offered, after a few moments with neither of them moving. 

“Uh huh, would be nice,” Anduin breathed, and Illidan sat up, easing him out of his clothes like a doll. Gathering up his strength, the young king eased himself under the blankets before resting comfortably, watching as Illidan swung his legs over the side of the bed and removed the kilt. It was easy enough, and he hung it up over a hook near the bed, before returning. 

Illidan was warm, so warm, and Anduin snuggled close to him, sighing happily as he was engulfed in the Demon Hunter’s huge chest and muscled arms. “This is so nice,” Anduin murmured, and Illidan leaned down and kissed the top of his head. 

“Being that small makes you easy to hold,” Illidan stated quietly, and Anduin pouted. 

“I’m not small, you’re just really big.” he let his head roll back, squinting up and wrinkling his nose. The muscles of his face were about the only ones he had left right now. He didn’t even have the strength to lift his arm. 

“That I am.” Illidan responded by kissing his mouth, and Anduin sighed into it, his eyes fluttering shut, that warm, good taste flooding his senses. Kissing Illidan like this, laying there in his bed, made him angry for the briefest of moments, at his own body. Angry that he hadn’t the strength to kiss back the way he wanted, or to touch Illidan, to hold him, to make love to him. 

But just like that it was gone again, and Anduin let it all go, curling his head against Illidan’s cheek. “It’s good to have you here,” Anduin murmured, fading fast. “I’m glad you...came…” 

“You make it safe here.” 

“Pardon?” he blinked sleepily, not sure of what he’d heard, not sure if he’d heard it right. 

“I said, you’re safe here.” 

“Oh, right...mm, so are you…” But he was too far gone to hear if Illidan responded, already falling asleep. 


	9. Chapter 9

Anduin slept _ hard_, so hard that when the sun hit his face he didn’t even feel it. 

Shaw quietly moved around the room, drawing curtains, letting the young king have a few more moments. Illidan was already awake, still relaxing though, and watching the shape of the Spymaster against the unliving stone walls. 

“Good morning,” Shaw greeted him warmly, and Illidan nodded back politely, but didn’t otherwise speak. He watched as Shaw came to the bed and gently began to rub Anduin’s shoulders, tapping along his collarbones lightly but effectively, as Anduin suddenly began to stir and blink his eyes blearily. “Ahh, there you are.” 

Anduin yawned, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. “H-His Majesty, High King of the Alliance, King of Stormwind, Anduin Llane Wrynn, reporting for duty, sir…” he managed to get through, as Shaw helped him sit up, propping him up on the pillows. “Thank you, Shaw.” 

“Of course, Majesty.” 

Illidan watched with interest and some confusion as they moved together. “What are you doing?” 

Anduin paused, glancing over, before holding his arms up and letting Mathias remove his night-shirt, replacing it with his robe. “I’m still a little worn down from yesterday. Turns out humans aren’t built for flight after all!” his laugh was easy and relaxed, but he saw Illidan flinch, and realized how guilty he must feel. “Really, I’m all right. This just happens sometimes. You aren’t the first person to leave me staggering, and if you’re planning on staying, it’s just something you’ll have to get used to. Next time, if you want to make it up to me, you can help me through the next day. Right?” 

“Right.” Illidan agreed, and Anduin saw him visibly relax. 

Illidan got up and wrapped the kilt around his waist as Anduin and Shaw negotiated him with practiced ease out of the bed and into a contraption that Illidan could see the outline of, and - 

“Why does that chair have wheels? That doesn’t look safe.” he walked alongside as Shaw pushed. 

“My feet roll, sometimes.” Anduin adjusted his head on the pillow to look up at him. “Most of the time I’ve got it running on a little motor - this whole thing is Goblin-made, Genn absolutely _ hates _ it - but in the morning I need it to go slowly.” 

“If you plan on racing him later, I’ll start a betting pool with SI:7.” 

“Only if you let me get a piece of the action!” 

“Your Majesty, it’s illegal to place bets on your own competitions,” Shaw chided him. “Besides, we all know you’re going to win, anyway.” 

“Oh, you’re on.” Illidan rumbled, and the two of them boasted of their speeds until they reached the bath-rooms. There, Shaw politely left them, and Anduin turned on the water to a shallow tub before he slowly stood up from his chair. 

Illidan blinked. “You can still walk?” 

“Well, my legs aren’t broken anymore,” Anduin pointed out, as he began to ease himself into the water, sighing happily and floating naked in the bath. “The chair is just so I _ can _stand and walk for short periods of time, enough to get between places, and save my strength. After I’ve eaten and rested again, I should be good as new.” 

“But...why do you go back and forth like that?” Illidan hung up his kilt and sat in the bath. It was so shallow that he could sit and the water came to his mid-chest. He watched as Anduin took his time to lather up his hair and body, doing the same for himself. It was more awkward since the tub wasn’t deep enough to let him stand. 

“Years ago, when the Horde was still under the banner of Garrosh Hellscream, I ran away to Pandaria. We had only recently been able to get there again, and during the conflict, I was gravely injured.” Anduin floated over to Illidan in the water, taking the Demon Hunter’s hand and running it down his chest, watching Illidan’s face change as he felt the hundreds of lines of scar tissue running up and down his body. “Only the quick actions of the Pandaren saved me, and Velen’s immense capacity to heal. For days, I drifted in and out of consciousness, every waking moment a confused, nauseating agony. Months of recovery and learning how to walk again, how to dress, how to hold myself upright, how to move so that my bones wouldn’t shatter like glass.” his chest heaved, a shuddering deep breath. He was trembling. Then, he felt Illidan’s arms go around him, holding him steady. “Even now, years later, the pains return in times of stress and danger. I get tired easily, and sometimes I- sometimes, I’m…” _ angry, sad, full of impotent rage and fury, a storm inside me; _Anduin shut his eyes tightly. 

“I am my scars,” Illidan’s voice floated down from above his head. “But you are more than yours.” 

“Thank you,” and it was the barest whisper, Anduin feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. “So are you, though…” 

“Perhaps.” 

Illidan let him go to unstop the bath, turning on the water and rinsing first himself, then Anduin, before seating him on the ledge and toweling him dry. Anduin giggled, letting the sensations of the fluffy towel be soothing and comforting, and allowed Illidan to deposit him in his chair, effortlessly. They went back to Anduin’s bedroom, and Anduin was able to button up the shirt that Illidan put on him, tie up his trousers, and tug on his jacket. Illidan knelt and put on the king’s socks and boots, his claws an asset when it came to the little laces between the eyelets of his boots. Then, it was back in the wheeled chair, and Anduin pushed a little switch. 

The chair chugged along at a good pace, Illidan lengthening his stride as they headed down the hallway for breakfast. It was laid out along the table for them, and Anduin sat up by himself, balancing as he ate. It was slower than before, but still independent, and Illidan was grateful for his own place-setting being with large, carved-wood serving options. Beside his plate, though, were something he hadn’t seen before. 

“What are these?” he picked up one of them. It looked like a long, delicate wand. “Am I giving you a magic lesson, after?” 

Anduin laughed. “No! Those are chopsticks. I thought they might make it easier to eat.” he gestured, and Illidan passed them over. Anduin showed him how to pick up pieces of the eggs they had been served, along with the little chunks of meat and cheese and vegetables, before passing them back. Illidan took only a few tries to really get it, and the both of them were wolfing down the food before they knew it. 

Once they had finished, Anduin brought Illidan outside again, this time onto the ramparts, overlooking the city. Anduin talked for a while before encouraging “whomever was watching them” to come out of the shadows and share some tales of the city. Two SI:7 agents, a man and a woman, cheerfully sat with them on the stone wall and began to spin tales of the past few weeks, juicy little details, new merchant ships, confiscated goods, and the latest Goblin trade routes. When the sun was high in the sky, though, they both bid farewell, and went inside again. 

Lunch was served in a similar manner to breakfast, with a few soldiers reporting in to Anduin before shuffling out again, and Illidan gobbling up the delicious meal with ease. There were dumplings and noodles and a small bowl of soup that he paused at before watching Anduin just drink it straight from the container and did it himself. There was a small baked roll glazed with honey for dessert, and Anduin sat back in his chair, leaning and yawning, when finished. 

Illidan’s ears perked up at the sound, and he glanced over. The brightness that had been so strong earlier was dimmed a little at his extremities, though still strong at its core. 

“You’re tired again.” 

“No’m’not.” 

“I can _ see _your Light, you know.” 

“I was going to race you!” 

“You need to rest.” Illidan chided him, standing and coming round to Anduin’s side of the table, figuring out where to put his hands on the chair, to guide it back to the bedroom. Anduin protested the entire way, but it wasn’t strong, and eventually fell to silence. 

He lifted the young king from his chair like a doll and laid him in bed, drawing a few curtains shut and settling beside him. 

Anduin grumbled, half-glaring at him. “Don’t you lie in bed with me. I know you’re ready for the rest of the day,” he protested anew. “If you try and sleep now, you won’t sleep tonight.” 

“I’m a Night Elf, we’re not supposed to sleep at night anyway.” Illidan poked his nose with a sharp claw, and Anduin’s eyes crossed as he tried to look at it. 

“Rude,” Anduin murmured, and that was all. When he next came to, Illidan was coiled up beside him like a cat, curled up in a surprisingly small ball, his head and horns resting on Anduin’s stomach and chest. Anduin ran through his regular self-check - stretching his jaw, shrugging his shoulders, lifting his arms and hands, curling his stomach, raising his thighs, and wiggling his toes. Everything seemed to be in good working order once more, painless, if a little stiff, but most of his energy had returned. 

“Illi-_dahhn_,” he sing-songed, gently stroking the Demon Hunter’s cheek. “I’m awake now…” 

Illidan grunted, blinking and stretching, still very cat-like, before grinning lazily up at his face. “Mmm. We should nap every day.” 

“I didn’t think someone so full of energy could enjoy such a lazy luxury,” Anduin teased, and Illidan wrinkled his nose and gnawed softly at Anduin’s stomach until he was wriggling and giggling on top of the blankets. 

“I suppose you don’t normally have time for something so relaxing.” Illidan was running his hand up and down Anduin’s thigh idly, his head still on Anduin’s torso, looking up at him. 

“True, I normally have a fairly full schedule, especially now that summer is over.” Anduin grabbed another pillow and stuck it behind his head, sitting up a little and watching as Illidan kept touching him. It was good, it felt very nice, perhaps a little _ too _ nice as his body began to take a bit more interest in the repeated stroking motions. “Still, I’m glad you didn’t leave my bed, after all…” 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now…” Illidan grinned, his rubs becoming more purposeful, moving further inward, between Anduin’s thighs, and Anduin let him. He could feel his pulse speeding up a bit, cock stirring in his trousers, watching Illidan’s massive hand teasing him. 

“Good, because I want you here, too,” Anduin breathed, grinning and blushing a little at his own boldness. “Ah- I want you, Illidan…” he shifted his hips a little, wondering just how bold he could be here, just how much Illidan would follow the orders of a High King. Technically, he was leader of the Alliance now, and though the Illidari were a neutral body, Illidan was, by race, one of his citizens. Curious. 

“Oh, you do, do you? What do you want of me?” Illidan purred, tracing a wicked-looking talon up and down the line of Anduin’s cock under the fabric. 

“I...I want you to stroke me,” Anduin panted, going with the feeling, the words tumbling from his mouth. “Undo my pants and take me out and stroke me.” 

“As you wish, _ Majesty _ ,” Illidan smirked, and that face made his stomach go into knots as he watched Illidan pull back, kneeling on the bed, to obey him. Deft claws undid the laces and eased the cloth down, but not removing them completely, keeping them at his mid-thighs. Next went his underclothes, again just below where his cock lay against his leg, by now throbbing with want, until Illidan wrapped his fingers around it, and Anduin _ whined_. 

His hand was firm and strong and good, and when he closed it into a fist, Anduin’s cock _ completely _ vanished inside it. The sheer size difference alone made his head spin, let alone the sensation of being stroked so perfectly. “Illidan,” Anduin whimpered, “Illidan _ please- _”

“Please what?” Still coy, still playful, still teasing. 

“Put your mouth on me!” 

Illidan had to open his palm before he could do so, letting his lips trail up and down the heated skin, making Anduin bite his lip to avoid crying out. He watched - barely - as Illidan began to kiss, to lick and lap at the head of his cock, catching the drips leaking from it. It was _ unbearably _ hot to watch the massive, powerful Demon Hunter on his knees and belly, tending to him this way, and Anduin covered his eyes, moaning as he turned his head. “Illidan…” 

There was a little more wetness and sound as Illidan spat, then wrapped his tongue around the head. Anduin could feel wet heat sliding around him and groaned, shuddering and forcing himself to look again. 

Illidan had his mouth wide open, too far open to really suck, but with that jaw full of fearsome teeth, he didn’t really want it closed on him. Watching Illidan lick and caress and drool all over him nearly undid him; Anduin moaned and was trembling uncontrollably, heat pooling in his lower belly just above his hips, a familiar sign coming all too soon. “Nuh- oh- Illidan- wait- wait- ah- stop- wait- ah- OH!” Illidan hadn’t stopped, wasn’t stopping, and had just squeezed the base of his cock with two fingers and his thumb, and Anduin nearly shot off the bed, coming hot and hard and messy in Illidan’s mouth and down his throat. 

Anduin was drooling and dazed, limp in the pillows, giggling brainlessly from having come harder than he’d ever before, when he felt Illidan push past his cock and between his thighs. Anduin parted them with a hum, muscles slowly responding again in his post-orgasmic hazy high. “You wanna fuck me?” it was lazy, crass, spilling from his lips like a brazen whore in some bawdy sea shanty. “Huh, Illidan? You wanna fuck me now?” 

Illidan cursed in Darnassian, dark and hungry, and Anduin watched as the kilt came off with ease, and Illidan lifted Anduin’s legs. 

“Wait, we need - my pants are still on -” Anduin mumbled in protest, trying to scramble sideways to get to his bedside table, but Illidan didn’t seem keen on waiting. However, instead of trying to push inside, he began pushing his dick through the slick, dripping mess between Anduin’s thighs and lower belly. It was still so hot to watch, especially with his legs stuck up helplessly in the air and knees tossed carelessly over one of Illidan’s shoulders as his enormous, deep indigo cock disappeared and reappeared from between his legs. 

“Hah- good- so good for me, Illidan, you’re so good,” Anduin babbled with praise and dirty talk, shuddering when Illidan’s hot cock throbbed against his own spent dick, laying against his belly. “Gods that feels so good, you fucking my thighs like that, does it feel good for you? Feels good for me, so hot to watch you fuck me like that, don’t stop, keep going, just like that, fuck my thighs, fuck me!” 

Illidan was wild behind his legs, holding them with one hand and the other on the bed, gripping the blanket for each powerful thrust, tugging Anduin down and off-balance, helpless and completely at his mercy, incapable of doing anything but just grabbing onto the blankets and holding on for dear life as he was fucked. The constant pressure against his dick and sensitive inner thighs was enough to start to get him hard again, and he put one hand down, catching the head of Illidan’s dick when it came through his thighs again, smearing his thumb through the steadily-leaking slit and making Illidan moan like a broken man. 

“Come for me. I want you to come for me, come all over me. Can you do that, huh, can you come for me? I wanna see you come for me,” Anduin panted, drunk on the power he had over Illidan in the moment like this, rocking his hips up and down, chasing his own pleasure too, his hand and open palm catching the head every time it popped through. “Come on, Illidan, come all over me!” 

Illidan shouted as he did just that. Anduin felt his release, a sudden hot burst against his palm, and he slid to one side, letting it fly out over his belly and chest, each time landing with a wet sensation on his skin. He squeezed his thighs together even closer and the noise it brought from Illidan made him shudder all the way down to his toes, his hips arching up again, closing the gap, milking Illidan’s still-coming cock, and the rhythmic, steady pulsing along the bottom side of his own dick pushed him over the edge and Anduin came again too. He nearly went unconscious with how good it was, just feeling every sensation all at once, until finally Illidan mumbled something and slumped on top of him, releasing his legs at last. 

Anduin laughed as he reached up, stroking and petting Illidan’s hair weakly, unable to stop grinning from ear to ear, thoroughly satisfied. “Oh, wow…” 

Illidan mumbled something and Anduin squirmed out from underneath him, kicking off his trousers and just spread-eagling out on the bed to feel unconstrained. “Mmm, have to do that again...you all right?” 

One of Illidan’s hands lifted up from the bed and weakly flashed a thumbs up, and Anduin burst out laughing again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! This chapter officially marks the beginning of Part II, with a little bit of a time jump. Doing a day-by-day to follow the plot between the end of Legion and Battle for Azeroth would just take too much time, so we have to to a little skip. I don't think this will be the last one, but nothing major will take place during the skips, so you don't have to worry about missing anything.

“Anduin.” 

Anduin groaned, the grip on his pen tightening as he continued to write his letter. Behind him, the window rattled as the cold December winds whipped up a frenzy in the early evening. Weeks, months had passed since the Legion had been defeated and Illidan had come to stay with him at Stormwind Keep. In those weeks, they had spent most of their time talking, and Anduin kept encouraging Illidan to open up about himself, but the Demon Hunter was proving himself to be just as stubborn as the man glaring across the room at him now. 

Currently, lllidan was doing some patrolling with Malfurion. The twins had rekindled their relationship and had grown quite close, much to Anduin’s pleasure. The elves had long flights and runs together, fishing in the pond and climbing the trees and mountainsides of Elwynn. Tyrande came only on official business from time to time, but Malfurion came often, sometimes bringing small woodland creatures in his beard, which some of the local children had asked if they could adopt. 

Truly, it was a time of great peace. 

“_Anduin_!” 

“Yes, Genn?” Anduin sighed, putting his pen down at last. He knew what Genn wanted to discuss with him, had been fighting over it with him all week long since the king had arrived. 

“We _ need _ to talk about your _ line of succession_! You _ must _stop putting this off! While we have relative quiet, we must move forward!” 

“Goodness, Genn, when ever did you take such an avid interest in my sex life?” Anduin deadpanned, folding his hands on his desk and giving the older man a dead stare. “You were never this needy before. Could it be that you’re jealous of Illidan?” 

Greymane let out a string of harsh curses. “-nothing to _ do _ with that enormous purple idiot! It’s no business of mine what _ concubines _ you keep as long as you have a _ proper _ marriage, with a _ proper _ queen, and a _ proper _child!” 

“Illidan is not a _ concubine_,” Anduin shot back, “_and _ though you say you don’t care, there _ are _ no others and there _ will _ be no others, and furthermore, the Alliance doesn’t _ need _ another human king!” 

“You have a _ duty_,” Genn growled, bristling like the wolf, “to Stormwind, not only to the Alliance, to provide heirs to the kingdom!”

“Fine then!” Anduin threw his hands up in the air. “Let it be a political marriage of convenience, then, a loveless one, brought together for two kingdoms for the purchase of land and houses, devoid of any mutual friendship or passion.” he glared at Genn. “Shall I propose to Calia Menethil, then? Or perhaps my dear auntie Jaina? You put a poor point, Genn, considering my better decisions would be towards a woman old enough to be my own mother! Unless your interest is more personal…” he drew a line across the desk, looking down at his gloved finger, cool and calculated. “Considering what SI:7 tells me how _ Tess _ was _ heavily _ involved-” 

“**_ENOUGH!_ ** ” Genn roared, and Anduin was surprised he didn’t shift forms from how red with rage he was. “You will _ not _ discuss those- dreadful rumours about the Uncrowned and _ that woman _-” 

Anduin cut him off by pushing out his chair and standing, staring at him harshly. “You _ know _ that Tess would find an arranged marriage abhorrent, and knowing - yes, _ knowing_, what you and I both have been privy to is _ fact _ and not conjecture - that whether by love or infatuation _ she _ will not entertain marriage to a man, it would be horribly perfect. The cold, loveless marriage you clearly want for me, and the forced grandchildren that would bind our kingdoms and put _ your _ blood on the throne of both that and the Alliance, should they even _ consider _us human after this.” 

And with that, he left the room, Genn sputtering in anger. He thought he may have heard a howl as he slammed the door behind him. 

The cold wind bit into his cheeks as he pulled his cloak closer, walking out onto the ramparts. “Send out a flare,” he swept past an unnatural shadow, and within seconds, a rocket blast high into the air, a quick burst of yellow and red fireworks. 

Someone dropped a heavier blanket onto his shoulders and though he was grateful for the added warmth, his knees wobbled a bit. 

Sure enough, Malfurion and Illidan came racing back out of the gloom. They landed on either side of him - Illidan heavily, with hooves slippery in the snow, Malfurion gracefully, typical of the pair of them. 

“Is something the matter?” Malfurion frowned at him, gently putting a hand on the side of Anduin’s head, his wing protecting his exposed skin from the icy wind. 

“Undoubtedly. There wouldn’t have been a signal if it wasn’t needed.” Illidan remarked crossly, then softened. “Let’s go inside. You’re getting frostbitten.” 

“I’ve only been out for a moment…” Anduin protested, but let himself be manipulated by the two Night Elf brothers back inside. He didn’t let them go too far, though, just inside the nearest guard tower, out of the wind. 

“Now.” Illidan pulled him down, settling the young king in his lap, “What’s happened?” 

Anduin thought about trying to avoid the topic, but knew it would come up again if he rejected it. “Genn Greymane is after me about royal business again.” 

The twins exchanged looks, and Malfurion shut the door, coming back to sit with them. The warmth off the two was quickly melting the snow in Anduin’s hair and skin, and the wetness was not comfortable. “Royal business, hmm?”

“Why can’t humans be like Night Elves? You and Tyrande aren’t expected to trot out children to take over your lands. I don’t understand why I can’t just establish someone else as the head of the kingdom, should I pass.” Anduin didn’t look at either of them, though he felt when Illidan’s arms tensed around him. 

“Humans also don’t live as long,” Malfurion pointed out. “Even without immortality, Night Elves don’t progress at the same rate. Though I do find it a wiser choice to establish someone as a leader when they’re an adult, rather than having such an expectation of greatness thrust upon them when they’re only an infant.” 

Illidan’s grip was so tight it felt like a vice. “You’re hurting me,” Anduin whispered, and Illidan let go, almost jerking back, like he was surprised at himself, at his own actions. 

“I apologize.” Illidan offered, and Anduin looked up at him. Malfurion’s choice of words, whether by accident or on purpose, had clearly disturbed him. 

“It doesn’t matter. I told him I didn’t want to get married, but he doesn’t care. I practically dared him to come up with an arranged marriage for me.” he rested his damp cheek against Illidan’s chest. Even in the wintertime, the Demon Hunter preferred to wear as little as possible. Right now, he was wearing a fur-lined set of leather trousers and an uncharacteristically thick leather coat, which had clasps in the back around his wings. 

“Forgive me for my egotistical thought, but if this is about _ me _, I have no concerns about you marrying for children,” Illidan pointed out. “If it’s something you can’t get out of, I don’t care. But even if you were to want that, for its own sake, I would not hold it against you. Of all the things you’ve told me during my time in Stormwind, having your heart for only one person isn’t like you.” 

“But it _ is _ like _ you, _” Anduin protested. “You were in love with Tyrande for over ten thousand years! That’s serious.” 

“That was foolishness,” Illidan pointed out, combing his claws through Anduin’s damp hair. “Also, for most of those years, I was in a lightless prison cell with nothing but my own obsessions to sustain me. Not to mention, my own brother was such an _ idiot _as to not see it-” 

Malfurion coughed awkwardly, but even from his angle in Illidan’s lap, Anduin could see that the Archdruid wasn’t angry; in fact, he was smiling a little sadly. 

“-but neither of us is the man we used to be. What matters are our own choices and our own decisions. And in any case, because of that, neither of us are the relationship experts you’d want to ask these questions of.” 

Anduin had to giggle a little at that. The sheer ridiculousness of it all made him slightly giddy. He sighed, relaxing again, and nodded. “At least I know that if you and I became the official couple that Malfurion and Tyrande did, you wouldn’t spend most of your time asleep!” 

“Hey!” Malfurion protested, feathers bristling, “I did that _ on purpose _! It was a very vital cause and preservation of the Dream is of utmost importance!” 

“Trust me, my snoring isn’t _ half _ as bad as his,” Illidan jerked a thumb over at his twin, who huffed and crossed his arms. “I can’t _ imagine _ what went through Tyrande’s head as she sat by him. _ Dear Diary, _ ” Illidan lightened his voice to a falsetto, “_today my Beloved’s snores were so loud that it caused a minor earthquake- _” 

“You are inflating it _far_out of proportion!” Malfurion insisted, sulking. “She doesn’t complain about my snoring nowadays…” 

“Congratulations,” Illidan deadpanned, and Anduin laughed again. 

“Oh! By the way,” Anduin turned, and some of his dripping bangs got in his eye. He squirmed, pushing them back out. “Will you and Tyrande be joining us for the Feast of Winter Veil? I had meant to ask when you first arrived, but the preparations are already under way, considering the holiday times are nearly here.” 

“We would be honoured to spend it here.” Malfurion settled back into his more jolly, usual self. “When I return to Darnassus, we shall make our arrangements immediately.” 

“Excellent! I suppose I should send out a formal invitation as well, but I seem to be entrapped and can’t get out,” Anduin teased, sliding a hand up Illidan’s arm and grinning, tugging him in tighter. 

“Well, once you’ve convinced a Demon Hunter to let go of his prey,” Illidan smirked with all his teeth, “you can go and write those letters.”


	11. Chapter 11

Anduin slit apart the envelope with the end of the letter-opener, eagerly unfolding it on his desk. He smiled, leaning back a little as he read Tyrande’s positive response to his invitation a week ago for the upcoming festivities. Her writing was tiny, neat and printed, functional rather than aesthetic. Perhaps she was more eloquent and scriptive in Darnassian, but it would do. Underneath her formal ‘thank-yous’ was a lovely, charming bit of scrawl from what had to be Malfurion, who undoubtedly took it from her in order to send it, but added his own touch before sealing it. 

He rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes a moment, tipping the end of the letter under his chin, then rested it on the desk and stood up. This year, Anduin had entrusted most of his staff to take care of the preparations, and had offered to dig into the treasury for more funds so that they could involve more citizens in the festivities without them having to pay out-of-pocket. 

Considering the giant sword sticking out of the side of their planet, he thought that they could use a few more reasons to be cheerful together. 

It felt a bit like one of his old injuries. The more he thought about, the more it grew, the anxiety and despair threatening to overwhelm him until he just pushed it out of his mind and thought about other things. The tightness in his chest and cold sweat on his brow felt the same in either circumstance. 

Anduin had to remind himself to breathe. 

“Majesty, Princess Greymane has arrived.” 

Anduin straightened up, walking with the staffer who had come to his study doorway. He’d been expecting her, had invited her to dinner tonight to discuss their ongoing efforts and to come up with a plan to silence Genn, who had been acting very strangely since Anduin had had him forcibly removed from the Keep for harassing some of his attendants. He’d been sent off with a warning and a cool-down period. 

“Tess!” he greeted her with a warm smile and hug, and she did the same, and Anduin felt a wave of gratitude wash over him for her ongoing support, despite her father’s odd proclivities. 

“It’s good to see you again, Anduin.” When they were alone this way, they dropped formalities entirely. She was older than him by a few years, and even though he was head of his kingdom, she was still at least a head taller than him. “You’ve grown some!” she put a hand on top of his head, pushing down. 

Anduin squatted, pouting. “Come on, you’re always so mean to me. One day I’m gonna be taller than you, you’ll see!” 

“No you won’t, but it’s okay, because you’re nice, small.” her hand went down, finger and thumb pinching his nose. Anduin looked cross-eyed at the hand, then up at her face, arching an eyebrow. 

“And this?” he gestured at his face.

“My father says you’ve got a nose for trouble lately, so I was going to steal it and keep you out of trouble.” she pulled her hand away, sticking her thumb through her fingers. “See? Got your nose!” 

“I’m eighteen years, not eighteen months,” Anduin complained, crossing his arms. “Only babies fall for that trick.” 

“Or, is it…” she stuck her hand behind his ear, and when she brought it back to her side, one of his hidden daggers was in her palm, “...merely a distraction?” 

Anduin yelped, blushing a bit. “Hey! That’s mine!” he patted down the side of his shirt where it was normally kept, and sure enough, the hidden pocket was empty. “You’re too good at this rogue business, Tess.” 

“And you’re too innocent, you’re like a baby brother.” Tess flipped the dagger effortlessly, then handed it back to him, hilt-first. He took it, sliding it back into its sheath, smiling a little less happily. Unfortunately, she noticed right away. “Something wrong?” 

“Actually, that’s one of the reasons I invited you here this evening.” he turned, gesturing for her to follow. Both of them went along to one of his unused meeting-rooms, and Anduin lit a fire, settling cross-legged on a cushion by the hearth, and Tess joined him, sitting opposite a low, round table with a tea-set on it. 

Food was brought in as they sat, and Anduin thanked the servers politely before pouring himself some tea and holding it in his hands, staring into the flames. 

“Anduin.” Tess prompted, taking her tea and blowing on it a little to cool it off before taking a sip. “If this is about what I think this is about…” 

“I know.” Anduin hung his head, then sighed, putting down his cup and taking a bite out of a nearby roll. “It’s all I can think about, when my mind isn’t immediately occupied by other things.” 

“To be clear, we’re talking about…” Tess gestured between the two of them with her fork, “...us, right? A political marriage?” 

“Yes.” Anduin couldn’t meet her eyes. “I have a tremendous amount of respect for you, which is ultimately why I can’t bring myself to seriously consider something like that.” 

Tess reached out, putting a hand over his. Anduin glanced at it, then looked up at her. “It’s noble of you to think of me like that, Anduin, but just like you, I was raised to understand that sometimes, we have to make sacrifices.” 

“Heh, you sound like Illidan,” Anduin chuckled, some of the nerves in his stomach settling, taking her hand in his more comfortably, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. 

“I sound like-” 

A great many things happened in rapid-fire succession. 

First, Anduin was pinned with his arms behind him, teacup shattered between his knees on the floor, cold steel against his throat, and a masked face above him. 

Then - “You don’t - fucking - _ touch _her!” a low, female voice hissed, and the point of the blade dug against the bottom of his chin, and he felt the sting as it cut into his flesh, though not deep. 

“Vanessa, _ no_!” 

Only one thought crossed his mind - _ Vanessa? - _before she was yanked from behind him, sending them all to the floor. 

Anduin was on his back, sprawled on the flagstone. Tess was straddling him awkwardly, clearly having tried to jump over the table and help him, and behind him, Illidan was standing a few feet away, his claws hooked into the back of the young would-be assassin (_Vanessa? Vanessa, Vanessa… _), hoisting her clear off the floor. 

Looking at her from his upside-down vantage made her squirming and wriggling look all the more silly, especially compared to Illidan, who was just big and standing there and smirking at her. 

“Don’t even _ try _to escape me, rogue, I’ll see you when even Shaw can’t spot you.” 

The Spymaster emerged breathlessly from the shadows, blotchy in complexion, stammering apologies and brushing his sleeves. Powder appeared to be trickling off of him, and from his hair. “I’m so sorry, Majesty, she got me in the face with a smoke-bomb at close range.” 

“Good help is _ so _hard to find these days,” Illidan groused, and Shaw coughed, lightly jabbing the Demon Hunter in the side. The two of them seemed to have developed a friendly rivalry lately, and Anduin just blinked at them. 

Tess rolled off of him and helped him to sit up again. “Vanessa, I _ told _ you, you didn’t have to come. It’s _ Anduin. _ I _ trust _him!” 

“Never trust a Wrynn,” Vanessa snarled, whiffing uselessly at Illidan. She swept up, hooking her legs around his elbow, trying to get him into a lock, but he was just too big compared to her. After a few more seconds of useless swinging, she stopped trying, crossing her arms and scowling at him. “I hate you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” 

“Sorry, would someone mind telling me what’s going on here?” Anduin cut in before Illidan could provoke her again. “If he puts you down, are you going to attack me again?” 

Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Yes.” 

“No, you _ won’t_.” Tess insisted, walking up to the dangling young woman. “If you kill my friend, not only will the _ entire _Alliance be trying to kill you, but I’m going to have to break up with you.” 

Even Illidan was silent at that. Then, he opened his hand, dropping her unceremoniously to the floor. She landed hard, at an awkward angle, yelping as her foot hit the stone. 

“I could have ripped you in half.” Illidan reminded her, as he settled beside Anduin on the floor, next to the fire. 

“Okay! Really, please, everyone needs to just stop messing around and _ start explaining_.” Anduin pushed onward, still not entirely sure what was happening.

Tess dragged Vanessa by the arm back to the fire, where they sat around the table. Shaw, instead of retreating to the shadows, parked himself between the two couples, opposite the hearth. 

“This is...this is Vanessa VanCleef, daughter of - 

“Edwin.” 

“Right. She took over the Brotherhood several years ago, but during the Legion incursion, lent her strengths and talents to the Uncrowned. That’s where we met.” Tess smiled a little, one hand firmly on Vanessa’s upper arm, the other tucking a strand of hair out of her own face. “My father would never understand or accept us, for a multitude of reasons…” 

There was a moment of silence, during which Anduin silently looked at Tess in pity and mutual pain, before Illidan interrupted with “Ohh, you two are -” and bumping the heels of his fists together twice. 

Everyone around the table blushed except for him and Shaw. 

“Illidan!” 

“What? They _ are_.” 

“You can’t just say that-”

“I didn’t _ say _ anything!” 

“For the love of _ fuck_,” Shaw interrupted the bickering, “_you are all such idiot children. _ You,” he gestured to Anduin, “should marry _ her,_” he gestured to Tess, and when Vanessa bared her teeth at him he just rolled his eyes, “so that _ both of you _ can safely and without guilt, _ maintain the relationships you actually want_.” 

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence around the table. 

“I like the small stabby one,” Illidan nodded at Vanessa, “she’d have made a good demon hunter if she had been an elf.” 

“You’d be a terrible rogue, you’re far too big.” 

“Yes, I am.” Illidan smirked, snaking an arm around Anduin, who blushed as he was pulled flush against the Demon Hunter’s side. “I’m _ very _big.” 

“Oh gods,” Vanessa threw her hands up and rolled her eyes. “How predictable. Of _ course _the man brags about his dick size.” 

“It’s no fun if you make it that explicit,” Illidan complained, grumbling. 

“All of you, be quiet.” Anduin said, a little too loudly, feeling his heartbeat in his cheeks from how embarrassed and flushed he was. “Shaw, we really shouldn’t. It would be dishonest, not to mention it still wouldn’t solve the problem of providing heirs for the kingdom.”

“I could still do that.” Tess admitted quietly, after some hesitation. Vanessa bristled. Tess grabbed her hand and held it. “It’s fine. I told you, I wanted children, and Anduin is someone I trust.” 

“You’re the only royal with her head on straight,” Vanessa snarled, turning on Anduin. “But you! You know nothing of what it’s like for ordinary citizens! You know nothing of the poor and suffering! You sit here with your symbols of opulence-” 

“We pay lifetime widows’ and widowers’ pensions for dead soldiers, give subsidies to Westfall now that I’m King, have built and offered free housing to any homeless Alliance citizens, encourage everyone to help with the orphanage through a sponsored “Children's Week”, run multicultural and heritage events to promote mutual understanding, I’m the closest thing the Horde has _ ever _ had to a friend, and I would melt down every piece of gold in the treasury if it meant keeping a single person from starving. I may not have ever been poor, but that doesn’t make me blind to the suffering of others.” 

Vanessa squirmed, then glared at him again. “Well, I don’t like your hair.” 

“You take that back,” Illidan shot at her, but even as he spoke, Anduin whipped out the knife Tess had stolen earlier and held it to his ponytail. 

“If it matters to you as a trust exercise, I’ll cut it off in an instant.” he promised, holding it out for her to see, sideways. 

Vanessa put her hands up, one still laced with Tess’. “I was being petulant. You don’t have to do that. I still don’t like you, but I could learn to trust you. I guess.” 

“Well, if we decide to marry, you’re going to have to, if you want to live with me here.” Tess pointed out.

“Ugh, live in Stormwind Keep…” Vanessa’s lip curled. “As long as I don’t have to double-date with _ him_,” she pointed at Illidan, who flexed and kissed one of his biceps. “TESS, HE’S DOING THAT ON PURPOSE!” 

“Not like I can make him stop,” Tess shrugged, grinning at her, and Anduin felt his anxiety from the evening drain away. He exchanged looks with Shaw, who smiled at him in a fatherly way. 

“Don’t be so smug. You did call _ me _an idiot too,” Anduin raised an eyebrow at Shaw. 

“I’ll call you an idiot any day of the week, Majesty.” Shaw replied, as he poured himself a cup of now-cool tea.


	12. Chapter 12

“So we’ve settled on a spring wedding,” Anduin happily sipped his hot chocolate, standing on the wall, snow gently falling around him. Boats were pulling in and out of the harbour, bringing supplies and tourists, and he usually went down once a week to do inspections as part of the team. Today, he and Illidan (well, mostly Illidan) had brought down a massive, enchanted barrel of hot chocolate and were sharing it with anyone who needed a hot drink at the waterside. 

“That’ll be nice, Majesty.” One of the ship’s captains, an older man with a weathered face and a beard as grey as the clouds, stood beside him. When Anduin was a child, he used to run around and play hide-and-seek with his guards, and had ended up on Thom’s ship, and promptly fallen asleep in the cargo hold. No one had noticed until they were far out to sea, causing panic until they could get the young prince back to Stormwind. 

Thom still treated him like a toddler sometimes, but his heart lifted every time he saw the old face walk down the gangplank to the dock. “And of course, you and Lorna have invitations.” Flashes, memories of playing with a little girl about his age below-decks, running and hiding together, giggling and screeching as they chased each other across the harbour. 

“Lorne.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“He goes by ‘Lorne’, now.” Thom took a swig of his hot chocolate, smacking his lips together. “Last winter he cames to me, says, ‘Dudda, I’m Lorne,’ and I says ‘Well fine then Lorne, ye’re not gettin’ out of watch duties aye?’ And he told me na’.” 

“Well then, I’ll change the invitation,” Anduin grinned to himself, trying to picture what Lorne might look like now. He hadn’t seen Thom’s child for almost two years, and though they were born around the same time, surely he had changed just as Anduin had. “Still planning on retiring next year?” 

“Aye, if Lorne can get his head on straight about running the trade route. It’s a lot to leave on a single lad, but we never had a second child, so it’s Lorne or naught. Much like yer own set o’ circumstances.” 

Anduin looked quietly down at his mug of hot chocolate. “All sons - all children - want to live up to their father’s expectations, I think. But I also think, as father and son grow up together, those expectations change and grow with them.” 

“Stop soundin’ wise. Ye’re a runt.” Thom reached over and mussed up Anduin’s hair, and Anduin laughed, ducking out of the way and sliding through the snow out of the sea captain’s reach. “And mind those invitations reach us by sea! We’re not in port for a while yet, have to make the trip back for the weddin’ itself.” 

“I’ll get those out as soon as possible with the actual date,” Anduin promised, waving him good-bye and making his way up the stairs out of the harbour. 

He was met on his way by Illidan, carrying the empty barrel over his shoulder. He’d taken to wearing a modified version of spiked horseshoes so he didn’t slip on the ice in the streets under the layers of snow. “You seem brighter than usual,” the Demon Hunter remarked as they headed to the Keep. 

“Just met up with a very old friend. It’s good to see he’s still alive.” 

“I’m always surprised at how long humans live, considering how reckless you all are.” Illidan chuckled. “It’s good you started heading back. They’re beginning to put up the festive decorations and they’re doing it all wrong.” 

“All wrong? How’s that?” 

“Well for a start, the tree’s not _ nearly _big enough.” 

“Illidan, I’ve _ seen _that tree, I saw them bringing it in last night, it’s got to be five metres tall!” 

“Not tall enough.” 

“Illidan if they find a taller tree it won’t _ fit _in the Grand Hall!” 

“_Not tall enough_.” 

“Well _ fine _ then, _ you _go out and manage to fit a taller tree in the Keep this winter!” 

The silent, enormous grin that spread across Illidan’s face _ should _have made Anduin nervous, but in all honesty it just made his stomach twist in the most delicious of knots and his heart skip a beat. It was so good to see him smile like that. 

They walked into the Keep together but Illidan headed off to the kitchens to have the barrel refilled, and Anduin kept going up the main hall. He paused, then stuck his head into the preparation room to see the tree. It _ was _massive, he satisfied himself, before walking on. 

Stacks of invitations, foil paper, gold sealing-wax, cloth envelopes and more were scattered across his writing-desk and all over his study. Anduin had to search to find where he’d left off, pulling the “non-royal friends” stacks off the shelf and sorting. He’d offered to write them all by hand, and Tess had obligingly given him her list. 

It was a long list, but he didn’t mind. 

Stretching out his hands and doing finger exercises, Anduin pulled the nearest blank stack towards him and began copying from the master invite. 

He had gotten through perhaps four or five more when there was a knock at the door. “Enter!” Anduin called, without looking up. 

“There you are. You are late for our meeting.” 

“Velen!” he looked up in embarassed surprise. “Oh my - I had completely forgotten I was expecting you! I’m so sorry!” he put down his pen and hopped down off his stool, hurrying across the room to embrace the ancient Draenei. They were a very physical race, and he loved how often he got pulled into bear-hugs by some of the massive Draenei priests and paladins alike in Stormwind. Despite Velen being one of the oldest people he knew, he never had to be gentle with his hugs. He wasn’t fragile like a bird’s wing, he was still solid and strong and real. 

Velen, in kind, hugged Anduin back with a strength that was calming and reassuring. Without relaxing or letting go, he nodded. “It has been a season. I keep meaning to spend more time here, now that the Legion threat is gone. We have spent so long chasing after our old foes.” 

“Forgive me. Come, let’s go to the Cathedral.” 

The two of them made their way through the busy, snowy streets, entering the building together. Velen had taken one look at the slippery, narrow steps, and promptly floated up and over them gracefully. Anduin laughed and had done the same, and once inside, they brushed the snow off their shoulders and walked to the back row of benches. There was a service quietly going on, so they sat down together, closing their eyes. Anduin lifted his head, feeling the Light within him healing and restoring him, a deep, soothing calmness filling his body. Even though he’d stopped casting his levitation spell, he felt lighter than air. He didn’t notice the time passing until - 

“What are we praying about?” 

“Illidan!” Anduin nearly jumped out of his bones, hissing and batting at the elf beside him to remain silent. “Shh-shht-shh-shht!” 

Illidan just smirked at him, settling on the bench to his right. From his left, Velen gave Illidan a stern look, to which Illidan made praying-hands and the ancient Draenei reached out faster than lightning and hauled the massive Demon Hunter in by his ear, nearly knocking two rows of people over as he flailed and was laid almost flat across Anduin’s lap. The young king gasped, then grabbed the loose wings and pulled them in, tightly, as Velen’s hands were occupied - one firmly around the long purple ear, the other clamped over Illidan’s mouth. 

“The events that transpired against you on the Vindicaar were a crime, and Xe’ra did wrong you, but you will _ not _ mock the people of our faith _ in our own house of worship_, is that _ very _clear?” He was so disturbingly calm and quiet for such an incensed tone that Illidan only nodded slowly, and while he winced when the hands were taken away from his body, he sat in mopey silence beside Anduin without another word. 

Still, Anduin slid a hand over, finding Illidan, who took it and squeezed it gently. The young King leaned against Illidan’s shoulder and closed his eyes, and when the music started, he began to sing.   
  


_ If there is one heart, the Light will come; _

_ If there are two hearts, the Light will shine; _

_ If there are many hearts, the Light will carry them; _

_ They live in love and love in Light divine. _

_ If there is one crying, the Light will come; _

_ If there are two crying, the Light will build; _

_ If there are many crying, the Light will carry them; _

_ Their tears dry in Light’s promises fulfilled. _

_ If there is one dancing, Light will come; _

_ If there are two dancing, Light will flow; _

_ If there are many dancing, Light will carry them; _

_ Their life in moving Light will ever grow. _

_ If I am ever lost, the Light will find me; _

_ If we are lost together, take my hand; _

_ We will find our way in Light and love together; _

_ And together in the Light we all shall stand. _

The service silently departed, with people nodding and embracing each other as they went out, and Anduin tugged his hood up, though it was impossible to hide the enormous elf beside him. Luckily, no one paused at their bench, and when the three went out together, Illidan said nothing. A few words of goodbye between Velen and Anduin, then Anduin turned to Illidan and squeezed his hand, gentle, reassuring. 

Illidan still said nothing. 

Anduin was silent for a long time, trying to think of what he wanted to say, what he _ should _say, unsure. 

“I...Illidan...why did you come here, this evening?” Anduin finally asked softly, as soft as the snow falling on them once more. The lamps were being lit around them in the Cathedral Square as they stood on the top of the steps. “Surely you knew what was going to happen.” 

“I didn’t think you took it so seriously.” 

“Illidan, the Light is real. It’s like Elune, well, I mean, Elune is an entity rather than a force, but it’s the same thing, sort of. And the Light helps us best in communities, and people like to be together like that, to pray, to sing, to meditate on the divine within us.” 

“There is no divine within me.” Illidan’s hand was at his chest, claws out, like he was about to rip out his own heart. Anduin reached up as quickly as he could and put his own palm between the Demon Hunter’s talons and his skin. 

“Illidan, _ no_. Illidan, _ please_. Please don’t say things like that.” Fear and tears were rising in Anduin’s throat and he swallowed. 

“I chose this. I was told I had a great destiny in the Light, and I chose another path.” Illidan didn’t look at him, didn’t remove his hand, and didn’t move. “I chose _ this_, I chose the Fel, to protect my world and everything I had to save. I know I made the right choice.” 

“You did!” Anduin said quickly. “You did, and you saved the world, and _ everyone should love you for it_, you did good things, you-” 

“-Serve no purpose now.” the claws began to dig in and Anduin yelped with pain, but instead of yanking his hand back, turned it and grabbed Illidan’s palm, dragging it down, forcing it away from his chest. 

“No. No no no no _ no no NO. _ Do _ not _ go down that path.” Anduin firmly stepped in front of Illidan, casting levitate so he could hover and push his face into the elf’s chest at the level of his heart, wrapping his arms around Illidan’s bulk as best he could, a little bit of wetness on his cheeks the mixture of snow, sweat, tears, and serous fluid from the light wounds in Illidan’s skin. “You are still one of Azeroth’s guardians. You are _ my _ guardian, and _ I love you_. I _ could not _ do this without you, Illidan, and I _ need _ you to stay with me, in body and in mind and in soul. Please. _ Please. PLEASE. _ You can’t say things like that - don’t even _ think _things like that, I...I don’t know what I’d do if I ever woke up and you were gone.” 

There was a silent pause, and then Illidan hugged him fiercely, the squeeze almost painful as they took off, and Anduin scrunched up his face and hid in the Demon Hunter’s broad chest as they flew, clinging to him. 

They touched down near the entrance to the library, and Anduin hung on like a limpet, refusing to let go, and Illidan carried him all the way back to their room, settling on the thick rug in front of the fire, finding warmth again. 


End file.
